


Secrets of Draconis

by MoonFireFic



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: paperlegends, F/M, Gen, M/M, Merlin Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFireFic/pseuds/MoonFireFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mordred aligns himself with the essence of a Dark Dragon Lord, Camelot is lost and magic itself begins to fade. Centuries later, Merlin now working for the British Museum, makes a discovery that could change everything. With the help of Morgana and a few old friends, he begins a race against time to restore Camelot and bring balance to the magic of Albion before darkness reigns forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing Merlin fanfic and taking on a globe-trotting Indiana Jones style adventure was a bit of a challenge. I hope you like it.
> 
> Dedicated to Milady Dragon, who has been an amazing beta and a great friend. Your love of all things dragon was a big reason why this fic even happened.
> 
> Many thanks to ettoby for her awesome artwork.

  


 

  


**Prologue**

_Camelot_

_The Past_

“Hold the line, men!” Arthur ordered his knights over the din. As Morgana and Mordred’s army renewed their assault on the castle gates, Arthur hastened a glance to the distant hilltop where he knew his best friend would be watching the proceedings and waiting for his signal. Trying not to second-guess his plan to keep the warlock out of harm’s way, he drew Excalibur and turned his mind back to the battle at hand. When the stone towers on either side of the gates started to crumble, Arthur took a deep breath and steeled himself for the battle to come.

“For Camelot!” he shouted as the first wave broke through. The knights returned his battle cry and charged forward, determined to defeat the lasted threat to the kingdom.

~~~~~~~~

“I should be down there,” Merlin complained to Kilgharrah as they watched the battle rage below. “I don’t care what that seer said,” he huffed in annoyance. “Just because she saw a cloaked sorcerer fall from battlements in a ball of dragon fire does not mean that I am in danger.”

“It seems that your king does not agree with you, Master Warlock,” Kilgharrah observed. “What troubles me most about her vision is that Mordred was ordering young Aithusa to attack.”

“You think he has joined Morgana’s cause?” Merlin replied with concern. The white dragon had befriended the sorceress several years ago and had bound herself to Morgana by saving her life more than once. But she had never acted against Camelot, respecting the bonds of kinship she and Merlin shared as a Dragon Lord. Surely she would not chance the reprimand from Kilgharrah that would swiftly follow for her insolence in attempting it?

“She left the roost weeks ago,” the dragon answered, scanning the skies for any sign of the younger dragon. “All dragons need to stretch their wings, but it has been days since I sensed her presence.” 

Merlin turned to his friend and saw the worry etched in the folds of his scales. Merlin knew that Aithusa’s affection for Morgana had been a sore point with the elder dragon, but to cut all contact with the only other known dragon in existence? It didn’t make any sense.

“Did you quarrel before she left?” Merlin queried, worried that his friend was not telling him everything.

Kilgharrah shook his head. 

“Dragons only go to ground in times of great stress,” he explained regarding him thoughtfully. “Maybe the call of a Dragon Lord would bring her home?” 

Merlin scanned the battle once more, reassuring himself that Arthur was safe before responding. Catching Kilgharrah’s eye he nodded and threw his head back to call for Aithusa.

As the roar of dragon-speak faded, Merlin joined Kilgharrah in searching the skies for their young friend. 

But of Aithusa, there was no sign. 

A crack of thunder boomed across the sky announced the presence of another sorcerer, and the two friends turned to face the slim figure phasing into existence within the accompanying swirl of wind. 

Kilgharrah snarled in anger as the winds died down and Morgana Pendragon materialized. 

Merlin gripped his staff and strode towards her, his midnight blue cloak swirling about his legs as his magic gathered to protect him. Before he could ask Morgana what she wanted, she let out a cry and fell to her knees, clutching her side in pain.

“Emrys,” she gasped, looking up at him with pain filled eyes. “Please, I need your help.” 

Merlin frowned, immediately on guard and wondering if this was yet another of Morgana’s tricks. 

“Why should I help you?” he replied icily as she forced herself to stand. “Once more you reach to take what is not yours and twist magic to harm others,” he added with a glare. “Until you call off the attack on Arthur and Camelot, we have nothing more to say.”

“Please,” she begged again as she staggered forward, ignoring the ball of power that ignited in Merlin’s hand on instinct. “You don’t understand. If you don’t help me, Camelot will fall to Mordred and all will be lost.”

Merlin exchanged a look with Kilgharrah and turned back to his former friend. 

“And why should we believe you?” Merlin asked in disbelief. “Did Mordred force you out now that he has the druids of Crimetha behind him?” he mocked, a small part of him reveling in her defeat.

Morgana shook her head. 

“He’s taken control of Aithusa and using her against her will,” she explained raising her chin haughtily like the Morgana of old. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” 

“What have you done to her?!” the dragon demanded, a puff of smoke blasting from his nostrils to knock her off her feet. 

It was only when her cloak fell open to reveal the bloody claw marks scouring her body and the tattered state of her dress that it became obvious just how badly hurt Morgana truly was.

“She sent me here to warn you,” Morgana breathed reaching up to forcibly wipe tears of pain from her eyes. “Mordred is using the crystallized heart of Drasgal to control him.”

Realizing that Mordred must have forced Aithusa to attack her, Merlin let his guard down a moment to kneel at her side. 

“But Drasgal has been dead for centuries,” stated a shaken Kilgharrah. “It would take the darkest of magic to force a dragon to claw it’s chosen kin.”

“The Crimethians,” Morgana explained as Merlin attempted to staunch her wounds. “Mordred convinced them that he was the true champion of magic, and that Emrys was only concerned with Arthur.” She paused to catch her breath before continuing. “They gave up their magic willingly, and once they were powerless to stop him, Mordred stole their lives to power the crystal. When he reached for my magic as well, I tried to stop him and he forced Aithusa to attack me,” she finished, cringing at the memory. 

Kilgharrah recoiled at the thought of Aithusa being used as a weapon. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses to the other dragon, but all he received in response was an overwhelming sense of fear and pain.

“Aithusa is in danger,” he said as his eyes sprung back open in alarm. Still connected to the magic deep within the core of his being, he stared down at Morgana, recognizing the subtle shifts in the magic swirling between Morgana, Merlin, and himself; realizing that events long foreseen were now at hand. 

“I fear that if Mordred is not stopped, he will kill Aithusa and plunge Albion into a darkness from which she may never return,” he continued holding her gaze.

“Can you save her?” Morgana asked, worried for her friend.

“That all depends on you,” Kilgharrah answered, tilting his head to the side and gauging her reaction.

Morgana laughed bitterly.

“So you would let Albion fall and the only other member of your race die just to spite me,” Morgana seethed. “Not while I still have a breath in my body will I let you leave Aithusa in the hands of that monster!” she cried in outrage, struggling to her feet before collapsing back down to her knees as her injuries threatened to overwhelm her once more. “Please,” she rasped as she sought the dragon’s gaze, resigning herself to the fact that he was her only hope to save her friend. “I owe her my life. What must I do to convince you to help her?”

Kilgharrah smiled.

“Swear by the Old Religion to end your quest for revenge against Camelot,” he answered, watching Morgana’s eyes widen at his request. “Dedicate yourself to healing the balance of magic in Albion and beyond and I will heal you so that together we can save Aithusa and stop Mordred.”

Morgana tore her gaze away from the dragon to look at Merlin who had kept his face carefully neutral during the exchange. Even so she saw the whisper of hope that flickered across his features and for a moment her frozen heart constricted. They had been at this for years now, and she was so very tired of the anger and the bloodshed. Aithusa was the only friend she truly had, and a small part of her missed the girl she had been back when Lord Emrys was merely Merlin the serving boy who had made her laugh. Gritting her teeth against a fresh wave of pain, she made her decision.

“I swear by the Old Religion and the Isle of the Blessed to restore the balance of magic and protect Albion and Camelot from harm,” she answered tiredly as her eyes flashed gold and magic sealed her vow.

“Stand back Merlin,” Kilgharrah advised as he moved closer to Morgana.

Merlin stepped away and watched as the dragon bent over her shivering form and exhaled a breath of healing magic. 

Morgana gasped as her wounds begun to heal themselves, until only a single set of claw marks running the length of her side from breast to hip remained. 

“Wounds I can heal, Lady Sorceress,” Kilgharrah explained as she stood, surprising Morgana with the title. “But scars from a claw-mark that deep can only be healed by the dragon that dealt them. They will serve as a reminder of why you have chosen this path.”

Morgana bit her lip and nodded as she examined the four parallel lines of silver running down her left side.

A great roar echoed over the valley below and the three of them turned in horror to see that Aithusa was attacking Camelot. 

“Find Mordred!” Kilgharrah ordered as he pushed himself into the air. The wind kicked up around them causing Morgana and Merlin to shield their eyes as they followed his ascent. As the dragon dove towards his kin, a flash of light appeared on the northern tower of the castle and Merlin felt the oily velvet of Mordred’s voice in his mind. 

“ _Emrys_ ,” he whisperedand Merlin felt Morgana shiver beside him as he realized she could hear him as well. Wind whipped around them and Morgana grasped Merlin’s hand as the two of them were transported to the tower to stand before Mordred.

“So kind of you to join me,” he said aloud as Merlin released Morgana and took in Mordred’s stark white robes and the ring of ebony fire burning within his eyes. All resemblance to the innocent young boy that they had once saved was gone. Despite the serene look on his face, the aura of power surrounding the man before them was as black and twisted as the crystal encased heart resting atop his staff. 

“I see you admiring my staff,” Mordred continued as the sound of roaring echoed overhead. “Do not worry Emrys. Soon your magic will join Lord Drasgal’s and the true Age of Magic can begin.”

“You seem very sure of that,” Merlin quipped, managing not to flinch as a blast of dragon fire flew past them to set the ramparts aflame. “But are you controlling Drasgal? Or is he controlling you?”

Mordred’s mask slipped as the flame in his eyes grew brighter and the crystal atop his staff began to glow. 

“I am Lord Drasgal’s _heir_ ,” he sneered in reply. “You would do wise to remember that, Warlock.”

“But you are no Dragon Lord,” Merlin replied evenly. “Even if you have harnessed some of his power, you will never truly be kin to dragon-kind.” With that Merlin called out to Aithusa and felt the confused mind of the young dragon as she tried to respond. 

“You cannot reach her, Emrys,” Mordred laughed.Raising his staff he pointed it toward the heavens and a bolt of black lightning shot forth in Kilgharrah’s direction. At the last minute Aithusa broke Mordred’s hold and put herself in front of the blast, absorbing the impact. Kilgharrah roared in alarm before diving to catch the stunned younger dragon as she started to fall from the sky. 

“Stop this!” Morgana begged, raising her arm, calling forth a gust of wind to ease Aithusa’s fall. 

Mordred merely smiled and gripped the staff harder. “Attack!” he shouted as another blast fired at Aithusa and the dragon jerked as she righted himself, her once white scales glittering with black magic as she turned on her mentor and rammed into Kilgharrah’s side, the two of them caught in a deadly mid-air dance as they slashed at each other with their claws.

“Enough!” Merlin yelled in dragon speech trying to end the conflict.

The dragons stilled in mid-air as Mordred raised his staff and fired another blast, this one hitting both of them as they snarled and resumed their battle. 

Merlin yelled again and aimed a blast of magic toward Mordred, smiling to himself as Morgana did the same, twin streaks of golden power assailing the druid as he raised his staff and fired back at them. 

When Morgana’s magic began to wane, Merlin reached for her hand and felt the connection as their shared magic combined and assaulted Mordred with renewed force until the crystal atop his staff started to crack. Trendils of dark magic spewed from the pulsing vessel holding the heart of Drasgal and to Merlin’s horror one of them shot forth lancing its way through the wings of both dragons until the two of them plummeted as one tangled mass to the ground below. “What have you done?” Merlin demanded as he managed to blast Mordred off his feet and ran to the edge of the tower, trying in vain to slow their descent. Suddenly Kilgharrah reached out to him and Merlin and fell to one knee as he felt the pain of his friend’s injuries wash over him. 

_“Do not fear Merlin,”_ he heard his former mentor say in his head. _“Destiny may have other plans for me, but you must carry on. Remember you are dragon-kin and find the Draconis stones. When the stars are aligned and the stones are in hand, magic and our kin will be restored.”_

“No!” Merlin protested.With a growl he turned to Mordred as he raised his staff to fire at the dragons once more. A mighty roar erupted from deep within his being and, blinded by grief and rage, Merlin called upon the ancient power of the Dragon Lords, firing a blast of white-hot magic directly at the man responsible for causing his kin pain. As Morgana reached out and added her own magic to the blast, he felt something shift. Black and gold magic flared between the three of them until the crystal of Mordred’s staff exploded and everything went dark.


	2. Prologue

**  
**

** Chapter One **

_ San Juan Heights - Santiago, Cuba _

_ July 1898 _

[ ](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cd/RoughRiders.jpeg)  

Gatling guns sounded in the distance as Merlin ran forward, his slouch hat bent low to keep the sun out of his eyes as they ran for the crest of the hill to face the Spanish head on. Clutching his rifle in his hands and using his magic to keep a shield on himself and as many of his fellow soldiers as possible he charged forward, as he and the rest of the Rough Riders chased after Col. Roosevelt without hesitation. The familiar rush of being in the midst of battle kicked in as he fought his way forward until suddenly he stood alongside Texas, the Colonel’s prized horse, at the top of the hill. Stopping to catch his breath, he pushed back his hat and ran a dirty hand across his brow as Roosevelt dismounted and pointed across the valley to where San Juan Hill was being overrun by the rest of the US Calvary and smiled. 

“Will you take a look at that, Emrys!” he said smacking the taller man on the back. “Emrys?” he asked again. 

“Emrys?”

_  
Nong Kai Province, Thailand _

_ The Present _

Merlin awoke with a start from his doze as Pili shook him awake. 

“Almost there, Professor Emrys,” he announced as the battered jeep he was driving bounced up the uneven terrain of the rough mountain road. Blinking away images of the past, Merlin pushed back his well-worn but much loved brown leather hat, a remnant of his stint with Roosevelt’s Rough Riders while searching for leads in Cuba, and removed his neckerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. The open-air jeep they rode in had seen better days, but was nimbly making its way up the muddy terrain of the jungle road. Pulling out the map he had found in a faded research journal, Merlin squinted into the distance and saw the first of many stone markers carved into the cliffside to guide those who knew where to look, but hidden just enough to keep intruders at bay. Pointing it out to his friend and guide, he received a gap-toothed grin in response as they veered off the main road and took the overgrown trail beside it. As they neared their destination, Merlin slipped the map back into the pocket of his cargo pants and tried to tamp down his excitement at the possibilities of what he might find. Officially he was supposed to be cataloguing the Buddha and sculptures inside of the cave on behalf of the British Museum. Unofficially, he was following up on a lead related to the naga and dragon-kind.

In the fifteen hundred years since his confrontation with Mordred, Merlin had followed a lot of false trails in his quest to restore the balance of magic. While there were still wyverns, unicorns, and all manner of creatures hidden within the forgotten places of the world, without the presence of the dragons, each turning of the year saw their numbers decline as magic faded further into the mists. 

When he and Morgana had awoken beside Mordred’s scorched and battered body, they had been overwhelmed by the sense of grief flowing through the very ground beneath their feet. Once they had finally found the strength to stand, fresh horror dawned as they realized that the tiered mountain on which they stood was actually Camelot’s tomb. When the crystal Mordred had used to house Drasgal shattered, the backlash of dark magic had destroyed the once great citadel, encasing the bodies of Kilgaharrah, Aithusa, Camelot, and all within her inside a tomb of stone that only the magic of a dragon could release. The two of them had spent centuries scouring the world for dragon lore or any spell that might possibly reverse what Mordred had wrought, but as the centuries wore on, Merlin was starting to lose hope of ever seeing his home or his friends again. When he had read the journal of an 18th Century explorer of the region, he had felt drawn to the place, and Pili contacting him about it soon after had made the decision to seek it out an easy one. 

He had met Pili years ago on the streets of Phuket, forming a life-long friendship when he had treated the child pickpocket to a meal instead of turning him in. Now, so many years later, Pili was one of his most trusted allies and one of the few who knew the truth of who he was. They had shared many adventures, and Pili’s knack for finding hidden magical artifacts had saved their lives more than once. As the jungle thinned and an intricately carved marker came into view beside a massive slab of stone, Merlin took a deep breath and prayed that somehow in this remote temple, Pili had found something that might help him complete his quest at last. 

Once they came to a stop, Merlin hopped out and rolled up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt as he took in the lazy Mekong River winding its way through the valley below. Closing his eyes to centre his magic, he took a deep breath and felt the stillness of the ancient mountains calm his nerves. Satisfied, he made his way toward the marker. As Pili led him down the narrow ledge cut into the rock face to the temple enclosed in the cave beyond, he smiled at the pleasant buzz of power that made his own magic sing in recognition. After greeting the elderly monk guarding the temple, Pili gave Merlin a nod and made his way over to a nearby boulder to pull out his pipe and settle in for a long smoke while he kept watch for anyone that might have followed them.

“Come,” the monk gestured guiding him inside. Merlin nodded and with a last glance in Pili’s direction, followed him inside. As they descended into the darkness of the cave, he felt a faint bit of nostalgia as he remembered a similar descent beneath Camelot centuries before to meet the Great Dragon for the first time.

Inside the temple they turned past a traditional altar surrounded by a series of golden Buddha, though this one was flanked by glittering jeweled cobras. At length they came to a hidden passage that opened into a large cavern housing an underground lake. Gem-encrusted statues of snakes and Buddha filled candle-lit alcoves along the walls, and at the far shore of the lake a gilded platform covered in plush red velvet stood a few feet from the shoreline. Gesturing for Merlin to wait, he made his way to a large prayer bowl held aloft in the coils of a massive golden cobra, before gently striking it to announce their presence. 

The water before him rippled and Merlin fought down the instinct to bring his magic to the surface as a reptilian tail slithered between the lotus blossoms floating in the water. He watched in fascination as iridescent scales glittered in and out of view within the candle light reflected on the water. As the ripples reached the far shore, the head of a beautiful woman with pale green skin and hair the colour of soft winter snow emerged and gracefully pushed herself up onto the waiting platform. The strands of pearls and precious gems decorating her neck glittered against the cave walls as she coiled her long tail beneath her body and settled amidst the cushions. Running her hand idly in the water before her and plucking up a stray lotus blossom, she turned her eyes of jet in his direction and began to speak.

“Emryss of the Old Wayss,” she greeted with a slight lisp as she addressed him in the tongue of her people. “You have travelled far. What would you sseek of the Naga?”

“Gracious Lady,” Merlin greeted her with a bow. “I seek the help of Nagaramma, the most esteemed queen of her people, to restore that which was lost.” He stopped as Nagaramma nodded to the monk who bowed and retreated from the room. “In my journeys I have heard tell of a carving that may give new hope to my quest,” Merlin continued. “I humbly ask that you share your wisdom of how I might find it.”

The Naga Queen laughed. “Only knowledge?” she asked in amusement. “The one who came before you ssought to harnesss the power of the Naga for hiss own.” Merlin frowned in confusion and the Queen looked thoughtful. “I ssee that you are ssurprised that to find you have a rival,” she observed. “Heed my warning, Emryss, though he wass not successful in hiss efforts to coerce me, weaker beings may be more easily sswayed.”

“I will remember your words, Milady,” Merlin replied, trying to still the sense of foreboding that accompanied the knowledge that someone else had been to the temple before him. “Since he was not able to obtain your help, may I be so bold as to enquire if you would be willing to impart your wisdom to me?”

Nagaramma smiled. “Come Warlock,” she said holding out her hand as a series of stone blocks rose from the depths to give him a path across the lake.

Merlin stepped onto the slippery stones and quickly made his way across, trying to ignore the glittering tails and in-human eyes that watched from the depths below. Once he reached the other side, the Naga Queen gestured and the stones receded.

“Thiss way,” she said, her forked tongue flicking through her lips as she slithered off the platform to lead him toward a ruby-encrusted snake carved into the cave wall. She pressed the snake’s eye, and the wall slid back, revealing a hidden door leading to a circular chamber filled with water and strange carvings. 

Nagaramma quickly slipped into the water and gestured for Merlin to follow. Setting down his bag and hat, Merlin slipped into the water, marveling at its warmth. He barely had a moment to take a breath before she grasped his hand and drug him under the surface, pulling him down deep into the depths of the cave until they emerged in another chamber, breaking the surface just as the last of Merlin’s air gave out. 

Blinking away the water in his eyes and gasping for air, Merlin saw that he was in a room filled with murals. Some showed the ancient legends of Kadru; others showed the journeys of the Monkey King, and the trials of Vishnu. But the mural that Nagaramma pointed to was the one that she had brought him to see; it showed a great gathering of the world’s dragons, griffons, naga, and other mythical creatures, even some he had never seen before surrounding a dragon handing what looked like trio of large stones out to a monk before a golden temple cut into a snowy mountainside. 

“Draconiss,” Nagaramma explained, pointing to brightest of a cluster of stars etched above the dragon holding the stones and Merlin stilled as he took in the shape and size of the stones, suddenly realizing that all this time he had been hunting for an artefact or a magical gem of some sort, when what he had truly been sent to find was dragons themselves. 

“When was this?” Merlin asked in excitement as he swam closer to examine the carved paintings more carefully. Raising his hand he conjured a ball of light to illuminate them and chuckled as he recognized the neck ruff of the young dragon holding what he now realized were dragon eggs as that of his long lost mentor, Kilgharrah. 

“The nagini who carved these left the mortal realms long ago,” Nagaramma answered. “She sspoke of a gathering of dragon-kind in a land of ice and ssnow hidden by monks of Shambhala.”

“Shangri-La,” Merlin translated as he viewed the temples and gardens carved into the wall behind the monk. Scouring the mural for any trace of a clue as to identify the whereabouts of the temple, he noticed the chest-plate on one of the dragons bearing a familiar symbol and smiled. For the first time in centuries, he might actually have a solid lead. He was about to ask Nagaramma if there were other tales of the event when suddenly the walls of the cave shook.

“Intrudersss!” Nagaramma hissed as she snatched his hand and drug him back through the water to the smaller cave. 

Merlin felt himself trust into the air and sputtered as he landed alongside his belongings. Glancing behind him, he saw the slender arms of Nagaramma disappearing into the depths below.

“Wait!” he called as the sound of gunshots echoed through the temple. 

Pulling on his hat and gathering his satchel, he made his way to the edge of the cave and saw a group of armed men firing into the lake as the naga within hissed and attempted to strike them with their fangs. 

Suddenly the water in the lake started bubbling and Nagaramma herself rose from the waters with a fan of cobras writhing in a crest behind her. Reaching behind her she gathered the snakes one by one and threw them at her attackers, watching with satisfaction as they struck and coiled themselves around the intruder’s necks as their venom did its work.

Shouts sounded and lights shown from the main tunnel, announcing more armed men were on their way. As Merlin stepped forward to join the fray, he felt someone tug on his arm and found Pili crouched down behind the platform-like throne gesturing for him to follow as he slipped into another passage. Merlin quickly made his way behind the throne, sparing a final glance in Nagaramma’s direction, watching as she frantically attempted to gather her children and take the injured back beneath the surface before the next attack. Raising his hand, Merlin ignited a wall of fire at the cave’s entrance to aide in their escape. With a nod to the Naga Queen, he moved into the tunnels, trusting that Pili and the monk knew another way out.

~~~~~~~~

_ London _

_ Three Days Later _

“Ah Professor Emrys,” Lord Kellington greeted as Merlin entered the Asian Antiquities department. “I trust your Siamese adventure was fruitful?”

Merlin smiled as he remembered how Pili had ingeniously traded the monk his battered jeep for a rickety motor boat, allowing the two of them to escape unscathed from the temple. The monk had even thrown in pair of jade Buddha in thanks for helping protect the naga from harm. He had given one to Pili in exchange for his services.

“It was indeed, Sir,” Merlin answered as he took the remaining jade Buddha from his bag. “On loan from the Temple of Tham Naga,” he explained as the placed it on a nearby table.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Kellington answered as he examined it up close. “The board will be most pleased.”

Merlin nodded and tried not to smile as one of the other archeologists rolled his eyes behind him. 

“I trust you will be hosting another lecture when the Secrets of the Buddha exhibit debuts next month?” Kellington asked, his tone letting Merlin know it wasn’t really a request.

“Of course,” Merlin answered, anxious to get to the European History Department and research the symbol he had seen in the cave. 

“Splendid,” Kellington answered as he was handed a magnifying glass for a better look.

Sensing his dismissal, Merlin turned to take his leave. 

“One more thing, Emrys,” he added not looking up from his work. “There was a young lady here this morning looking for you.” Glancing up over the top of his glasses, Merlin suddenly felt like he was a teenager getting a reprimand from Gaius. “While we appreciate the work you do for us, do try to keep your personal affairs away from the museum won’t you?”

“Understood Sir,” Merlin answered rolling his eyes and sharing a wink with one of the research assistants as he left. 

Making his way down to the secure collection, he checked out a couple of texts, a stone relief from a 1300’s Norman church, and a piece of a medieval tapestry from Gascony before making his way back up to his tiny office to try and decipher what he had seen. As soon as he opened the door his senses were assaulted by the familiar scent of jasmine and night flowers, a perfume that could only belong to one person. Sighing as he knew it was no co-incidence that she had sought him out when he had finally found a lead, Merlin opened the door.

“Hello Merlin,” Morgana purred from her perch atop his desk.

Merlin smirked at her designer dress and impossibly high heels, recognizing the pose as the same one she had used to distract men back in the twenties, shocking the bright young things into missing their billiard shots by flashing the tops of her stockings.

“Morgana,” he answered. “What brings you to my door?” he asked before flopping himself down into his chair.

“Maybe I was just homesick?” she replied innocently. “Maybe I found something,” she added with a smirk. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you were still playing nutty professor,” she finished with an evil grin.

“I take it you want me to guess?” Merlin sighed in exasperation.

“Don’t be such a spoil-sport Merls,” she replied with a pout. “It’s been ages. Aren’t you at least a little happy to see me?”

Merlin chuckled and shook his head as Morgana smiled back at him. 

“Oddly enough, yes,” he answered as she hopped off the desk to embrace him. As Morgana settled herself in the lone chair of his cramped office, Merlin unrolled the tapestry and glanced up at her. “And I am assuming since you are here, you saw what I found?”

Morgana frowned. “The vision was unclear. Did you really go swimming with a snake-goddess?”

Merlin laughed. 

~~~~~~~~

_ Remote Chateau  _

_ Lorie Valley, France _

Henri Medraut, current head of Blackstone Enterprises, looked over the artefacts his team had collected from the mission in Thailand with disdain. 

“And there was nothing else?” he asked raising an eyebrow to the mission commander. 

“No Sir,” the team commander replied. 

“And Emrys?” he asked, hoping that they had some lead as to what he had found. 

“He and his friend managed to escape unscathed,” came the reply. 

Henri’s eyes narrowed as he twirled the ring housing the black crystal of his family crest. The ring had been passed down from father to son for centuries, ever since their ancestor had found the magical gem while grazing his sheep atop Glastonbury Tor. No one knew where the gem had come from, but it had gifted each bearer with an elongated life; with a few provisions of course. The ring had shown the original shepherd and his descendants’ visions of dragons for centuries; whispering promises of untold riches if they could find the Draconis stones before the Warlock.

“You know how I feel about failure,” Henri answered as he stood from his desk to face the man directly. 

“But, Sir I-“ he started to protest as Henri raised his hand and the crystal within his ring glowed with power. Before he could finish his statement, the man screamed as his life-force was ripped away, leaving his body’s empty husk to fall to the carpet.

“Such a waste,” Henri said with disdain as he looked back over the mission notes. The Warlock may have outsmarted them again, but his informant inside the British Museum had mentioned that the Witch had arrived that morning, a sure sign that he had found something that the former commander had not. 

“I want full surveillance on Emrys and Pendragon,” he ordered his valet, Alphonse, as the body was removed. “Draconis will be aligned with Glastonbury Tor within the month. There can be no more delays.”

Glancing into a nearby mirror with satisfaction as the lines on his face softened, Henri glanced over to the framed tapestry on the wall over the fireplace: a depiction of a man in black robes riding atop a great dragon as it laid fire to the castle below. With a nod to the Dragon Lord who’s heart had given life to the crystal on his finger, Henri strode from the room. He could no longer trust in mercenaries. The time had come to make his presence known.

 


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Abbaye de Flaran](http://www.brouquere.com/visit/abbaye-de-flaran_en.htm) mentioned in this chapter is a real abbey in Glascony, France. It was built in the 12th Century and has been preserved as a cultural landmark, now serving as the location of cultural activities in the region.

  


** Chapter Two **

_ Merlin’s Flat _

_ London_

_  
_

“Tea?” Merlin asked as Morgana made herself at home in one of the overstuffed armchairs flanking the fireplace. 

“If you have it,” Morgana replied as she glanced around the room, her gaze falling on a pair of crossed swords over the mantle. 

“Lionheart?” she asked as he set the mugs down. 

“Charlemagne,” he countered as his eyes flashed and the wood inside the grate ignited. 

“You never could stay away when there was a battle to be fought,” Morgana said as she picked up her mug. 

“As if you never cut your hair or bound your breasts for a chance to swing a sword again,” Merlin scoffed good-naturedly. 

Morgana smiled and reached for her purse to pull out a sketch book filled with drawings. 

“I started seeing this two weeks ago,” she said as she found the page she wanted and handed it to him. 

Merlin recognized the constellation of Draco with its brightest star Draconis illuminated against the rest, and in the background the familiar stone tower of Glastonbury Tor, but when he turned the page and saw the same monastery that he had seen in the naga caves, his blood ran cold. 

“What is it?” Morgana asked in concern as Merlin turned the page and saw the rough outlines of dragons, mountains, and the same symbol he had seen in the cave jumbled together. “Do you know what they mean?” she pushed trying to get an answer. “Please Merlin,” she begged. “We’ve been looking for so long, surely this means we’ve finally found a way to heal the wounds wrought by Mordred’s magic?”

Merlin set down the sketchbook and pulled out one of the books he had borrowed earlier setting it down alongside it to compare the symbol. 

“It’s the symbol of the House of Jilocasin,” Merlin explained as the same symbol, two dragons entwined around a yew tree could be seen. 

“The Knights of the Dragon,” Morgana whispered recognizing the name. “But I thought that was just a legend?”

“And we’re not?” Merlin smirked. “According to this text, the last known members of their order were buried in an abbey in Gascony.”

“Well then,” replied Morgana. “I guess it’s time to brush up on your French.”

~~~~~~~~

 

_Abbaye de Flaran _

_ Gascony, France _

 

“Are you certain this is the right place?” Morgana sniffed, lowering her sunglasses to look at the crumbling abbey before her. After Morgana had insisted that Merlin leave his favourite hat at home, they had made certain to dress the part for their investigation, and now looked every bit the respectable research team they were supposed to be; Morgana in a dress and knee high flat boots disguised as his student-assistant and Merlin wearing a tweed jacket over his jeans and scarf, black-rimmed glasses completing the ensemble of his guise as a history professor. 

Merlin glanced up at the various gargoyles on the roof and pointed to the one on the far right holding a shield bearing the emblem of the dragon knights in its claws.

“Bonjour Professor Emrys,” greeted Father Marcel as he came out to greet them, dressed in traditional Jesuit robes, before raising an eyebrow in Morgana’s direction.

“My assistant, Mademoiselle Le Fay,” Merlin supplied, using Morgana’s favourite pseudonym. “She is well versed in the poetry of Seigneur Jilocasin.”

Father Marcel turned to her in surprise. 

“Not many know of his works,” he said giving her a speculative look. “Our librarian Father Bastian is waiting you in the north vestibule and was most intrigued to hear of your research into both the Chevaliers du Dragon, and the lore of Jilocasin. Perhaps he will be of some assistance, non?” he added before turning to lead them into the abbey.

Merlin and Morgana exchanged a look, suddenly worried that the cram session they had done on the train over might not be enough to maintain their cover as they searched the abbey. 

Two hours later after Father Bastian had left them alone to study the ancient manuscripts housed in the abbey’s library, they took a chance and scoured the room for clues. 

“Look for the symbol of the order, or maybe a mark that looks like a dragon,” Merlin advised as Morgana searched the shelves and Merlin climbed the stairs of the library to search the second story. It had been raining most of the afternoon, and as Merlin searched the stone walls for clues, the sun came back from behind the clouds to illuminate the stained glass window above him. 

Temporarily blinded by the sudden burst of light Merlin stepped back from the window. The clouds shifted and the light dimmed for a moment leaving only a portion of the glass within the sun’s rays before returning again, this time bright enough to make a splash of colour dance across the stone floor below. 

Merlin stared as a pattern that could not be seen until the entire window was illuminated emerged. 

“This is pointless,” Morgana complained as she shoved a book back into place. “We are never going to find this without help.” Glancing up at Merlin she saw that he has holding up his scarf to the window as if trying to block out bits of the light. “What on Earth?” she started to question, until Merlin pointed down at the ground giving her a chance to see what he was doing. 

“Draco,” she whispered noticing the familiar pattern of stars illuminating the floor. 

“We need to trace where they land,” Merlin called down as he struggled to keep them illuminated. 

Morgana pulled her sketchbook from her bag and placed it on the ground, quickly tracing the points of the constellation as they flickered in and out of view amidst the colours of the window.

“Got them!” she called back as Merlin nodded and shifted the scarf until a new set of colours and images illuminated the floor. Morgana quickly sketched over them, trying to connect the images and get as much information as she could as thunder boomed overhead and the sunlight disappeared behind the clouds once more. 

“Everything alright in here?” asked Father Bastian as he returned to check on them. 

“Just dropped my notebook,” Morgana answered with an innocent smile as Merlin hurried down the stairs.

“Bit chilly in here isn’t it?” he asked, tying his scarf back into place. Glancing at Morgana, he saw her eyes flick to the door where several other members of the order stood watching them curiously. 

Thunder boomed overhead a second time and Merlin cringed. “I think it might be best if we get a move on,” he said gathering his things. “Thank you for sharing your library, it was most helpful,” he added reaching to shake Father Bastian’s hand. As he did, he noticed for the first time that he wore a ring bearing the symbol of the Knights of the Dragon. 

“It was an honor to be of service,” Father Bastian replied, with a knowing smile. “I’ll show you the way back,” he added gesturing to his fellow priests to clear the way. As they made their way through the corridors to the front of the abbey, raised voices could be heard and Father Bastian held up his hand to gesture for them to stop. 

“This way,” he said gesturing to nearby alcove. As he approached it he turned a crucifix on the wall, causing a piece of the wall to swing open and reveal a hidden passage. “Quickly!” he urged as they made their way inside and down the stairs.

The sound of shouting could be heard above them as they made their way down the crumbling steps into the catacombs below the abbey. 

At length they came to a large open chamber where the remains of all the former abbots lined the walls. Noticing that there was no discernible way out of the chamber, Merlin and Morgana exchanged a glance, wondering if they had been led astray. Turning to confront their guide, they noticed that Father Bastian had lit a torch and was moving towards a battered shield held up by two stone dragons. 

“Your coming was foretold,” Father Bastian said, holding his torch up to examine the shield. “The Knights of the Dragon have long guarded this abbey to ensure that the way to the Draconis stones did not fall into the wrong hands.” Reaching up he turned the shield a quarter turn to the right, causing a door to open below it into another chamber. 

They followed him inside as Father Bastian lit a large brazier in the centre of the room. As the flames illuminated the chamber, the skeleton of a dragon could be seen lying in repose on the far side of the room. Lining the wall above it was an immense tapestry, telling the story of Jilocasin, the great dragon poet and his adopted human kin, the first dragon knights.

“He came here when he was near his last, and entrusted his greatest secret into our keeping,” Bastian explained, gesturing them towards the chest that lie clutched in what remained of the once mighty claws. Reaching down, Bastian removed a chain from around his neck which held a golden key. Slipping it into the lock on the chest, he opened it to expose a pair of pouches and a piece of parchment hidden within. “He told us that Lord Emrys would come with a great sorceress and together they would restore the balance of magic to the world,” he said as he placed them within Merlin’s hands. 

Merlin nodded and slipped the items into his satchel for safe keeping before turning around in dismay as a clang sounded on the other side of the wall announcing that their pursuers had reached the burial chamber. 

“Is there another way out?” Morgana asked as the sounds of the room beyond being searched and torn apart could be heard. 

Father Bastian moved to a pillar at the side of the room and reached up to press it aside, exposing a set of stairs. As he did so the door to the burial chamber started to open. A shot rang out through the crack in the open door, catching Bastian in the shoulder and knocking him to the floor. 

Morgana rushed to his side and quickly raised her hand to heal the wound. 

“I’ll be fine,” he gasped pushing her hand away. “Go. They must not find you here.”

Merlin raised his hand and moved a broken pillar across the room until it crashed against the door, blocking the entrance. 

“That should buy us some time,” he said with a grin as he lifted Bastian up and Morgana conjured a ball of light. The pillar slid back into place behind them as they hurriedly made their way down the steps into the darkness beyond. Twenty minutes later they emerged inside a dilapidated mill on the far side of the abbey grounds and Merlin quickly closed the trap door and placed a grinding stone atop it, blocking any who might follow. Laying Father Bastian down amongst the flour sacks, Morgana started healing him as Merlin kept a wary eye on the abbey below. There were now two large SUV’s parked in front of the abbey and several men waiting alongside them, blocking their escape. 

“Is there another road out of here?” he asked once she was finished. 

“The woods to the west,” Bastian answered tiredly. “The trail within will lead you back to the village.”

Merlin nodded and knelt down beside him. “Thank you for your help,” he said resting a hand on the priest’s shoulder. “You are truly worthy of the ring that you carry.”

Father Bastian smiled. “It has been my honor.”

“They’re heading inside,” Morgana interjected from where she was standing lookout near the door. “We best leave while we have the chance.” 

“May the wings of the ancient dragons shelter you from harm,” Merlin said in parting as he stood to join her.

“And may the light of the ancients shine on your quest,” Father Bastian replied with a smile.

The Warlock held his gaze for a moment before nodding in recognition of the blessing and turning to go. 

As they made their way across the field to the forest, Morgana glanced back to where Father Bastian was making his way slowly down the hill from the mill back to the abbey. 

“Do you think he will be safe?” she asked in concern. “He never mentioned who was after us, but after you were followed in Thailand, it can’t be a coincidence.”

“I know,” Merlin answered, as a shiver of fear snaked down his spine.

~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean they have escaped?” Henri demanded as his men turned up empty handed yet again. Turning to his men, he gestured them to bring Father Marcel forward. “You were to detain them,” he said scowling at the priest. “But that seems to have been too much of a task for an abbot to control his priests. Perhaps we should teach them the value of following your lead,” he added gesturing to where his men had he other priests held at gunpoint.

“Please,” pled Father Marcel. “They are humble men who seek only to uphold what they believe to be right. Let the blame remain with me.”

“And so it shall,” Henri answered.

Later as he stood outside watching the abbey burn he glanced at the half finished map before him and smiled. 

“Soon,” he promised himself. He had the next piece and it was only a matter of time before he caught up to the warlock and the witch and captured the Draconis stones for himself.

 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tarjan's Column](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trajan%27s_Column)
> 
> which is described in this chapter is real, and plaster casts were indeed made of the reliefs the cover it's 30 ft length are on display in the Museum of Roman Civilization. The Dacian Draco, a wolf-headed dragon, was carried by the Dacian people into battle and is prominently featured on the column and in other Dacian artifacts.
> 
> I apologize for the picture sizing - this is the first time I have imported to AO3 and it came through rather large.

 

** Chapter Three **

After their narrow escape in France, Merlin and Morgana had taken a train south towards Italy, knowing by their rough sketch in the library that their next destination lie somewhere in Rome. 

Once they had secured their cabin, Merlin took out the items that Father Bastian had given them and looked them over, hoping that they might provide further clues.

In one pouch rested a glittering sapphire-hued dragon scale and an odd shaped crystal. In the other were a series of pearls, all of varying sizes, the smallest the size of a small pea. The parchment, once unrolled, revealed a jumble of overlapping lines and words written in dragon-tongue, a language that while familiar to Merlin appeared as gibberish to Morgana. 

“So mighty Dragon Lord, how are we supposed to read this?” Morgana asked as Merlin studied it. 

Merlin frowned at the parchment for a moment, before closing his eyes to gather the power of the Dragon Lord within him, something he had not done in centuries. All was still as if the world itself was holding its breath, and then Merlin’s eyes opened, ancient power caused them to shine fever bright and reminding Morgana just how powerful her former foe and now friend truly was.

“Drákos chártiÌ± apokalýptoun ta mystiká sas!” Merlin growled, the words of the dragon-tongue echoing across the tiny cabin as the map below them began to glow and the lines rearranged themselves. 

As they watched, the lines stretched and bent into a map that somewhat resembled the Europe and Asia that they now knew. Portions of it were still obscured but the abbey where they had obtained it was clearly marked, as was their next location in Rome. 

“Stoo-ly,” Morgana attempted, causing Merlin’s eyes to crinkle as he grinned at her ill-formed attempts at speaking dragon-tongue. “Fine, genius, what does it mean?” she demanded growing impatient.

“StileÌe tou lýkou drákos kataktiÌitíÌi,” Merlin corrected. “It means Column of the Wolf Dragon Conqueror,” he explained.

At Morgana’s blank look, Merlin pulled out the visitor’s guide he had grabbed as they boarded the train, and flipped it to the section about Quirinal Hill before placing it on the table beside the map.

“The victory column of Trajan,” Merlin explained pointing to the triumphal column listed as a highlight for any visitor of the district.”

Morgana skimmed the text and looked back at the picture, her eyes suddenly going wide as she realized the enormity of their next task. 

“This is impossible,” she groaned. “How are we going to search a 30ft column covered in bas reliefs?”

“Don’t worry,” Merlin answered as he rolled up the map and placed the pouches back into his bag for safe keeping. “I have a plan.”

“It better not involve dangling me from the top,” Morgana answered as the door slid open and the porter checked their tickets.

~~~~~~~~

_ Museum of Roman Civilization _

_ Rome, Italy _

[ ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Dacian_Draco_on_Trajan%27s_Column_2.jpg)

[ ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:TrajanscolumbMdCR.jpg)

“That’s this row done,” Morgana announced as she made her way down the next row of plaster casts. 

Merlin’s plan had involved using the plaster casts that the museum had made of the column’s reliefs in the mid-19th Century before the original column had started to succumb to the effects of time and erosion. Since they were conveniently displayed horizontally in rows for better study, they had each taken a row and started searching, looking for anything, as Morgana termed it, ‘dragonish’. They had counted twenty instances of the Dacian army carrying a Dacian Draco within the scenes, but as yet had not found the one that was to give them the next stop on their journey.

Working his way back through the reliefs, Merlin’s eye came to rest on a scene depicting a Dacian Draco planted before a citadel surrounded by skulls of defeated roman soldiers. As he crouched down to look closer, something caught his eye that he had not on his first perusal of the scene; the faded outline of a dragon curled around the left tower of the citadel.

“Find something of interest, Sir?” asked the curator as he came in to check on them.

“This citadel,” Merlin replied turning to the side to keep the dragon he had noticed from view. “Has it been identified?”

“It is widely believed to be the Costesti-Bildaru,” he replied with a sniff, “but with so many citadels of the period in ruins, it is hard to say. It could just as easily be Cumidava-Rasnov, or the Apoloun,” he finished with a shrug.

Merlin turned back to the image and looked at it again, hoping to find some clue as to which was the right destination. 

“The museum will be opening in half an hour to the public,” the curator continued as Morgana joined them. “While I don’t mind helping a colleague, I can’t keep the exhibit closed during normal visiting hours.”

“Then we will detain you no more,” Merlin said as he stood. “Thank you for the opportunity to view your collection,” he added with a nod he made his way out of the exhibit.

“Did you find it then?” Morgana whispered as they left. 

“I’m not sure,” Merlin answered glancing around to where a sleek black SUV had pulled up near the museum steps. “But I think we should get moving in any case. It would seem that we have company.”

Morgana followed his gaze as several large men exited an SUV and started pushing their way through the crowd towards them. Merlin grabbed Morgana’s hand and pulled her through the column breezeway that lined the museum entrance and through the trees along Viale della Scultura to where they had parked the motorcycle they rented that morning to make navigating the city easier.

Merlin hopped onto the cycle with Morgana behind him, one hand around his waist and the other held out at the ready to shield them if one of the goons chasing them chose to open fire. Weaving between buildings they made their way towards central Rome, hoping that they had lost their pursuers in the chaos of traffic. The SUV fell farther and farther behind until Morgana turned around, assuming they were safe. Speeding through the streets towards the secluded inn where they were staying, they passed the open air market when suddenly Merlin felt Morgana stiffen behind him. 

“Did you feel that?” she asked breathlessly and Merlin cringed as a wave of dark magic crept towards them. 

Kicking the cycle into a higher gear, he took a quick right, turning into an alley a few streets from their inn and spun around to confront the assault before it could reach them. 

Both of them held a hand out to conjure a combined shield, something they had become quite adept at over the centuries warding off would-be sorcerers who sought to steal the power of the two immortal magic wielders’ for themselves. It was something they were particularly good at, and most who made the attempt quickly gave up after discovering just how strong the force of their combined magic truly was. 

A loud screech rang out as the sun slipped behind a cloud darkening the alley until only the light within the ball of purple and green magic heading their way remained. 

“Brace yourself!” Merlin warned as they whispered the incantation to shield themselves from the onslaught. 

The ball of magic hit them hard enough to knock them back off the motorcycle and onto the pavement. 

“What was that?” Morgana asked in confusion. Neither of them had been attacked with something of that strength in centuries, and judging by how winded they both were, they were woefully out of practice. 

“No idea,” Merlin answered pulling her to her feet. “But I think it best that we don’t stay around to find out.”

Morgana nodded and the two of them started sprinting down the alley on foot, crossing into a nearby villa as another ball of magic started to chase them. Merlin turned and countered it with a blast of power, the collision of the two balls of magic enough to shatter the surrounding windows on impact. Not taking time to think about what that meant about their attacker, they continued their flight, crossing through a small park as they ran deeper into the heart of Rome, hoping that the more populated areas would cause their pursuer to cease their attack, giving them enough time to escape and regroup. 

Noticing a basilica ahead Merlin gestured to Morgana and the two of them ducked into the alcove before it before pulling open the shabby wooden door and running inside. Making their way further into the church, they ran up to the balcony on the second floor and crouched behind the marble railing, hoping that the peace and tranquility of the church would shroud the signature of their magic. 

The doors burst open moments later and a man stepped inside flanked by a cluster of men clad in black fatigues.The man was dressed in an Armani suit that would not have been out of place at a business meeting, but the aura of darkness surrounding him caused the scent of rotten fruit to fill the air. 

“They’re still here,” said the man as he gazed around the sanctuary. “Tear it apart until you find them.”

Merlin and Morgana exchanged a glance, wondering why this man was so intent on finding them. 

As his henchmen scoured the room, the man made his way up to the front of the church and perched himself atop the altar at the front, still sweeping for any sign of them until his gaze fell on the railing where they were hidden. 

A sinister smile blossomed on his face as he disappeared and reappeared behind them. 

“Merlin Emrys and the Lady Morgana, we meet at last,” he said with a sneer as they stood up to face him. 

“And who might you be?” Morgana demanded, causing the man to smile even wider. 

“Your doom,” he answered smugly. 

Morgana scoffed. “I already have someone to fill that role thanks,” she replied as Merlin fought back a smirk. 

“Ah but destiny was altered when you took Kilgharrah’s oath,” he tsked. “He is no longer your doom, but your ally.Pity that neither of you are still strong enough to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Merlin answered his eyes shining gold as he drew his power to the surface. 

The man laughed. “Really Emrys, have you not figured it out by now?” he scoffed. “By relying on the witch you have grown soft. Do you really think you can defeat Lord Drasgal’s heir?”

Merlin paled. But Mordred had died and the ring was destroyed.Surely this man was bluffing.

“Mordred is dead,” Morgana replied before he could say anything. “You are merely chasing shadows of a madman who would tear the last shred of magic from the world in a quest for power.”

“Shadow is a very apt description, Milady,” he replied, raising his left hand to show the black crystal of the ring adorning it. “My name is Henri Medraut. While the two of you did defeat Mordred, a shard of the crystal remained and was passed on to others who bear his name.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the French version of Mordred’s name and realized that the ring housed the shard of crystal he was describing. 

“But why chase us?” Merlin asked, subtly drawing himself closer to Morgana in case they needed to make a rapid escape. 

“Because, my dear Warlock,” he said as the ring began to glow. “You hold the key to the power that Lord Drasgal has promised my family for centuries, and if you don’t mind, I think it’s high time you shared it.”

Henri flicked his hand causing Morgana to cry out in pain as a burst of black magic slammed into her, knocking her over the edge of the balcony to the stone floor below. 

Merlin dove after her and began the incantation to teleport them out of there, clasping her hand as the spell took hold causing them to disappear in a shimmer of golden light. 

“Do you want us to continue chasing them boss?” one of the men asked. 

Henri smiled. “No need,” he replied as he straightened his cuffs. “We’re done here. Get the men together; we head to Romania in the morning.”

 

[  
](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)

 


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Costesti-Bildaru ](http://surprising-romania.blogspot.com/2010/03/costesti-blidaru-fortress.html)
> 
> is a Dacian fortress that was conquered by the Romans in 102 AD. There are many such forts, now in ruins nestled within the hills of Romania.

 

** Chapter Four **

_ Villa della Luce _

_ Rome, Italy _

After they had landed in a heap on the bed inside their room, Morgana had spent a fitful night fighting off Henri’s enchantment. By morning her fever had broken, but Merlin was worried that the spell could still be affecting her somehow. Morgana was having none of it though and had attempted to heal herself before conjuring up breakfast for them both just to prove that she was fine.

“It must not have been as strong as he thought,” she shrugged as she sipped her cappuccino. “Besides, I refuse to let that man take over your title. If anyone is going to be the doom of me, it has to be you,” she added with a sly grin.

Merlin sighed. “Just let me cast one more diagnostic spell,” he pleaded. “The last one came up a bit cloudy and I don’t want to take the risk of something lingering that we cannot detect.”

Morgana rolled her eyes and set down her mug. “Fine,” she huffed as Merlin cast the spell again. 

While it was clearer than before, Morgana’s aura was still just a bit murky on the edges. Opaqueness like that was normally only seen in the elderly, and made no sense. 

“It’s still there,” he frowned. “Maybe I should-“

“Stop worrying!” Morgana snapped in frustration. “We don’t have time for this. The stars will be aligned in five days and there is no time to lose.”

Merlin scowled. “No need to get all haughty princess on me,” he replied with a glare. “If you have to ignore my concern, can you at least take a shower before we leave?” he added as he casually sipped his tea.

“Are you saying I smell?” Morgana asked incredulously. 

“Well if the stink fits,” Merlin replied giving her a pointed look. 

“Ladies do not _stink_ ,” she answered with a glare. 

“Well apparently Lady Sorceresses do,” he answered as he flipped open the morning paper. “Get to it. I don’t want the odor of over-ripe royalty assaulting my nose all the way to Romania.”

Rather than reply, Morgana flicked her hand causing Merlin’s paper to tear in two as she turned on her heel and stomped toward the shower. 

Chuckling to himself, Merlin waited until she turned on the shower to pull out the map and read over the next passage. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; it was just that the murkiness of her aura made him overly cautious. While the two of them had long buried the hatchet and been unlikely allies for centuries, he had seen the harm that Drasgal’s crystal had done before, and he wanted to take no chances of Henri Medraut somehow corrupting the partnership between them.

~~~~~~~~

  


_ Costesti-Bildaru _

_ Romania  
  
  
  
_

Merlin and Morgana were scouring the ruined Dacian hill fort, looking for the ‘Den tou lýkou vasiliá’ or Den of the Wolf King. 

“It’s just a pile of old rocks and a few trees,” Morgana complained in frustration. “Barely a tower left to speak of. Are you sure you have the right location?”

Merlin nodded. “I checked it several times. There are legends of an ancient clan of magical wolves that lived peacefully amongst the people of this Bildaru,” he answered as he searched for a hidden lever or trap door beneath the remnants of a tower. “Wolves are revered in this part of Romania,” he added gesturing to a wolf’s head carved into the stone wall behind him. “Neither of the other two places had any affinity with them. This has to be the place.”

Morgana sighed and made her way down the outside wall to the remnants of an old wine cellar. Walking down into it, she saw that the wolf motif carried on throughout the ruins and a sequence of them seemed to run along the cellar wall as the stone steps spiraled downward. 

“Merlin!” she called out drawing his attention to what she had found. “Could it be our next clue?”

Merlin conjured a ball of light and looked closer at the carvings. They each had a diamond shape cut above them and showed a different scene: a wolf running, howling at the moon, hunting, curled in its den with its kits…

Merlin stopped on the image of the wolf with its kits. Pulling the crystal from his bag he held it up to the hole above the scene of the wolf in the den and pressed it in. 

Something clicked within the wall behind it and the two magic wielders shared a grin as a door slid open to let them inside. 

Holding the ball of light higher, Merlin led them inside a stone passage, retrieving the crystal as they went to make sure they weren’t followed. The passage continued forward, seemingly winding its way underneath the fort and into the hillside beyond. Soon they came to another door and, noticing the same notch, Merlin used the crystal to open the second door, bringing them into the base of a crumbling keep. A coat of arms depicting the Dacian Draco above a rampant wolf bearing a crown stood sentinel over an immense stone fireplace, and a large four-poster bed dominated the wall opposite. The right of the chamber was filled with stands holding ancient armour, and a massive chest sat atop a stone table, bearing the same coat of arms. 

Taking a step forward, Morgana examined the chest. 

“It’s locked,” she noted before uttering a spell to open it. When the chest didn’t budge she turned and gave Merlin a rueful smile. “Figured it was worth a try,” she said with a shrug. 

Merlin chuckled and went to examine the lock while Morgana examined the armour. 

“Merlin!” she gasped as she pulled a shield from a stand. Her hands shook as she turned it towards him to reveal the familiar dragon symbol of Camelot. 

“How did that get here?” Merlin asked as he traced the symbol of his lost home. 

Morgana shook her head. “Not sure. It’s been well used and equally well cared for,” she said softly. 

Merlin flipped it over and looked at where the handle had been repaired more than once, obviously by someone who planned to use it again. As he pondered how a piece of Camelot had managed to escape its destruction, he glanced up at the coat of arms dominating the wall. Handing Morgana the shield he made his way towards it and raised his arms to shift it loose from its perch.

Placing the shield atop the bed, he turned back to the wall and smiled. In the centre of the wall where the shield had been was another notch. Reaching up he placed the crystal inside the notch and turned it counter clock-wise, in the direction of where Camelot once stood. For a few minutes nothing happened, and then just as he was about to reach up and remove it, the crystal began to glow, filling the room with light as the image of an immense black wolf wearing a crown of gold appeared before them. 

“Greetings Emrys,” the Wolf-king said with a growl. “I have been assured that you will be the one to take up this quest should the need arise, and I hope that this finds you well.”

Merlin blinked at the message addressing him personally. Had Kilgharrah planned this all along?

“You have come far, but there is still further to go if you are to secure the stones,” the wolf continued. “And it is not a quest that you can endure alone.” Merlin swept a side-long glance at Morgana before turning his attention back to the message. “The crystal will bring my descendants to your aid,” he continued. “For without the wolf, the dragon will surely fail.” 

The image flickered and faded, leaving Merlin and Morgana alone in the chamber once more. 

The moment of stillness was broken as the door to the chamber exploded. 

“Hello again,” greeted Henri as he stepped inside, brushing the dust from his sleeves. “I see my little tracking spell worked,” he added giving Morgana a pointed look. “Thank you ever so much for your help, my dear.”

“Get stuffed!” Morgana answered, her eyes blazing gold as she countered his enchantment with a wave of her hand, ignoring Merlin’s pointed glare that plainly said, ‘I told you so’.

“Well it was fun while it lasted,” Henri continued with false cheer. “Now it seems that I will just have to take that little map of yours,” he added with a sniff gesturing for his men to move forward. 

Merlin’s eyes flared gold and Henri grinned back at him. 

“Go ahead and try it Emrys,” he taunted. “The walls of this place are protected by runes on all sides, or didn’t you _notice_?” he said with a smile pointing to the ring of runes encircling the walls above their heads. “Only passive and healing magic will work within this place. Pity though. It would have been so much more fun to crush you while I had the chance.”

Not believing him, Morgana raised her hand to blast them backwards, only to have her magic fizzle out in front of her. Seeing she was helpless, Henri nodded to the henchman closest to her and he quickly pulled her against him, holding a gun to her temple in warning when she started to struggle. 

“The map if you please,” Henri said holding out his hand. “Or if you prefer to see the lady bleed,” he added as the man clicked back the safety on his gun. 

“Don’t give him anything!” Morgana cried out as the gun was pressed farther into her temple. 

“Ah so sweet,” Henri said curling his lip in disgust. “Even now you are still trying to prove your worth and assuage the guilt of having betrayed him yet again.”

“I didn’t betray him,” Morgana snarled. “Merlin is my friend!” 

“Ah, but you did, _Milady_ ,” Henri mocked. “It may have been without your knowledge, but once again you were too weak to stop someone else from using you as a pawn against your friends.”

“Don’t listen to him, Morgana,” Merlin said quietly as he pulled out the parchment containing the map and held it in his hand. “Release her and it’s yours,” he added, holding Henri’s gaze.

“Giving up so soon, Emrys?” Henri pouted. “But that wasn’t hard at all.” One of his men stepped forward and took the map from Merlin’s hand and placed it in Henri’s. “All to save the woman who has tried to kill you more times than you can count,” Henri said with a sigh. “How disappointing.”

“Caring about your friends is never disappointing,” Merlin replied. “You have your map. Now release her and let us go.”

With a nod to his henchman, Morgana was thrust forward into Merlin’s arms and the men began to leave the room. 

“I never agreed to let you leave,” Henri answered as he crossed the threshold. “And since I can’t use the ring to drain your essence while you are inside of here, I might as well keep you caged up until after I get the stones for myself.”

“What do you mean?” Morgana asked, as Merlin frantically searched the room for another way out.

“You two are immortal aren’t you?” he asked mockingly. “If that’s the case, you shouldn’t be too worried. There should be enough air to hold you for a day or two at least.” Seeing the startled looks on their faces Henri smiled to himself as he checked his watch. “Well, must dash. The constellation is at hand and all that. See you soon!”

Henri gave them a cheery wave and stepped back into the hall, the sound of his laughter cutting off as another blast charge sounded and the stones of the passage surrounding the door fell blocking their way out. 

“Now what?” Morgana asked after her attempts to blast the rocks from the door proved fruitless. It would seem that any aggressive magic truly was nullified within the chamber. Conjuring a ball of light to search for an exit, she saw Merlin reach up and pluck the crystal from its resting place above the mantle and hold it in his hand. 

Within moments, it started to glow and Morgana’s magic flittered away as the crystal illuminated the chamber.

“Now we wait,” Merlin answered hoping that the Wolf King’s pledge still held.

Hours later as the air started to grow thin Merlin heard the sound of metal scraping in the distance. As he moved a sleeping Morgana into a more comfortable position, the scraping grew louder until it seemed to be coming from directly behind the fireplace. 

With a heavy-lidded gaze, Merlin watched the crystal fade as a crack of light emerged from a seam at the back of the fireplace as the wall behind it slid to the side revealing the last person Merlin ever expected to see stepping into the room. 

“Phew! Smells like the piss-trough behind McMartin’s Tavern in here,” complained a familiar voice. “Must have been dark magic indeed to smell _that_ bad.”

“Gwaine?” Merlin asked incredulously as the grinning face of the former knight came into view. 

“Merlin!” Gwaine exclaimed before hoisting him to his feet. “I see you found Great-Grandfather’s crystal,” he said gesturing to the crystal he still clutched in his palm. “A better homing beacon you will never find,” he added as the crystal faded once Gwaine had touched it in acknowledgement.

“Great-Grandfather?” Merlin asked stupidly as his oxygen deprived brain tried to reconcile Gwaine’s presence with the message of the Wolf King. 

“Yeah,” Gwaine replied glibly. “You know Lýko Vasiliá?” he said in dragon-tongue. “The Wolf King?”

Merlin swallowed. “And that would mean you are?” he asked already knowing the answer.

“His great-grandson, King Gwaine,” he answered with a rakish grin. “Guess you weren’t the only one with a secret!”

 

[  
](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)


	6. Chapter Five

 

**Chapter Five**

_Romanian Countryside_

“I’ve finally lost it haven’t I?” Morgana asked in disbelief as Gwaine led them deeper into the woods surrounding Costesti-Bildaru. “I thought I dreamt it but Gwaine is really here isn’t he?” she asked Merlin as she stared at the man in front of her with wide eyes.

“Dreaming about me again, Milady?” Gwaine teased once they reached a small clearing. “Always knew you had a crush on me.”

“I do not have a _crush_ ,” Morgana said with disdain as Gwaine unpacked the duffel bags he had left in the clearing and pulled out a couple of bedrolls for the night. 

“Sure you don’t,” Gwaine replied as Morgana snatched her bedroll from his hands. 

Merlin watched the exchange and tried not to laugh. Morgana was still proud as ever and afraid to admit that she had spent more than a few hours watching Gwaine on the practice field. Later when they were enemies, the two of them spent as much time flirting as they did trading blows.

“I’ll just get the firewood shall I?” he asked in amusement as the two of them carried on sniping at each other in a vain attempt to one-up each other and emphasize that they were most certainly _not_ besotted with one another. 

Merlin’s mind reeled as he fell into the familiar rhythm of gathering firewood to set up camp. Gwaine had been alive all this time and he had never known. While part of him was hurt that his friend had never announced his presence, he knew that Gwaine of all people knew the meaning of friendship and never would have kept his distance without a reason. 

His arms full, the warlock started making his way back to camp, looking forward to catching up with his long lost friend, and maybe getting a few answers as to where he had been all this time. 

The sight that met him when he reached the clearing nearly made him drop the branches he’d gathered in shock. 

Gwaine was holding a seething Morgana tight in his arms as she ranted at him for being an overgrown horny beast with an overdeveloped sense of importance. Before she could start another rant, Gwaine bent down and kissed her fiercely. Morgana started and her face contorted in rage as she struggled to break free until she finally seemed to relax and closed her eyes to enjoy his embrace. When things started to get more heated, Merlin discreetly coughed, causing Morgana to open her now golden eyes and throw Gwaine across the clearing to land with a thud against a nearby tree. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Merlin said in amusement as Gwaine wiped his mouth and stood up.

“Just proving a point,” Gwaine answered as Merlin set the wood down and lit it with a flick of his fingers. 

“And what point was that?” Morgana asked, raising her eyebrow in his direction as if daring him to use the word crush a second time.

“That even a great sorceress like you still has feelings,” Gwaine said as he went to the duffel to pull out a couple of tins of stew and a pot. 

“Well, keep your lips and your feelings to yourself,” Morgana huffed as she sat down on a nearby stump.

“As Milady commands,” Gwaine replied with a bow. “Besides, as King I have my pick of the pack. I can’t go tossing my affections about where they are unwanted, can I?” he asked winking in Merlin’s direction.

Merlin just shook his head and started dumping the stew into the pot. 

“Won’t be as good as one of your trail meals by any means,” Gwaine said as he tossed him a spoon. “But it’ll be hot and keep us until morning.”

Merlin nodded as he placed the pot atop a large cooking stone at the centre of the fire to cook their meal.

“So what have you been up to?” Merlin asked, hoping a change of subject would ease the tension between his companions. “Besides being King of the Wolves and all that.”

Gwaine stared into the fire as images of times and people long gone dancing within the flames. 

“I was in Mercia on an errand for Arthur when Mordred attacked,” he began his tale. “Word reached us just as the battle started and I rode hard for two days to get back there in time.” He stopped to pull a few canteens of water from his pack and handed the second one over to Merlin who took a sip before handing it to Morgana. 

“I saw the dragons spiraling overhead as they fought and knew that you were somewhere in the thick of it, in trouble as always while Princess fought on oblivious down below,” he continued giving Merlin a fond smile. 

“He always hated that nickname,” Merlin said with a grin.

“Yeah, suits him though,” Gwaine replied with a laugh. “Always needed to be reminded to keep his paws on the ground our Arthur did.”

Merlin chuckled. 

“There were times I debated telling him who and what I really was,” he said as he added a log to the fire. “It’s not easy growing up heir to a kingdom, even if you have been run off it due to warring within the clans,” he said resuming his perch atop a nearby log. “I was never truly meant to be king you see,” he explained. “Father had run off when he was younger and married a human woman, wanting to add new blood to our line as females were few and far between and he needed an heir,” he continued as Merlin and Morgana listened in silence. “He ended up a knight and married to my mother. But the need for the hunt is a siren song that all wolves most follow, and ultimately he met his end at the point of a sword that some fool had asked a wizard to enchant as protection against magical beasts,” he paused shaking his head. “It wasn’t even a mortal blow. But no knight expects a wolf to wear human skin and fight in the manner of men.” 

“How old were you?” Morgana asked as she joined the conversation for the first time.

“I was ten,” Gwaine answered looking up to see the pain of losing Gorlois, the man she had assumed was her father shining in her eyes. “But age doesn’t matter. No child should be without their parents.”

Merlin didn’t answer as he thought about how briefly he had known Balinor. “But even the shortest time with them is worth the pain,” he said quietly as he stirred the stew. 

“Aye it is,” Gwaine answered, turning his gaze back to the fire once more. “As I’ve told Merlin before, the King of Caerleon had no time for a knight’s widow. He cast us aside and refused to help us, leaving us to starve.” His face twisted with anger and Gwaine’s eyes flashed amber as he remembered the pain of that day. “I was a pup, young and stupid and barely able to keep the power that comes with being wolf in check,” he said as the amber faded back to blue. “I almost changed right there in the throne room when he dismissed my mother. It took four men to haul me away that day, and I swore no king would ever have my allegiance from that day on,” he added with a smirk. “Trust a fledgling warlock and a blonde prat to prove me wrong.”

“Why didn’t you go back to your father’s people?” Merlin asked when Gwaine went silent. 

“The clan wars had gotten so bad that many had left Wallachia altogether,” Gwaine replied with a shrug. “And with Great-Grandfather still on the throne and Grandfather the next it line, it made sense to stay with my mother’s people.” He threw the stick he was holding into the fire and pulled out a trio of bowls and some spoons to place at Merlin’s side. 

“He visited us when I turned eighteen,” he said as he settled back down. “Decided to sneak up on me while I was out with the lads chasing down deer,” he continued and chuckled at the memory. “I recognized the family scent trace and knew him right away, but the rest of our party ran away as fast as they could.” He turned and took a bowl from Merlin with a nod of thanks. “Seems a wolf that is five feet at the shoulder is a bit intimidating for most humans,” he added with a grin.

“Five feet?” Merlin asked as he blew on his stew to cool it down. “Are you telling me that you are the same size when you change?”

Gwaine grinned wider. “Grandfather was a runt,” he answered causing Merlin to stop with the spoon halfway to his mouth. 

“Close your mouth, Merls,” Morgana chastised and Merlin promptly clacked his mouth shut. 

“Anyway,” Gwaine continued as he shoveled stew into his mouth. “Grandfather taught me to hunt, father had already taught me to track, and I had learned the sword from a friend of my father. Once I was grown I decided to strike out on my own. Made things easier on mother not having to feed me all the time,” he turned to Merlin who groaned as suddenly all the times Gwaine had complained of being hungry even after a third helping suddenly made sense. 

“Wolves have a voracious appetite, don’t they?” he asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Got it in one,” Gwaine answered with a smirk. “Why do you think I was always trying to snag an extra chicken from Camelot’s kitchens?” he asked. “Couldn’t exactly skip guard duty to get furry and hunt down a deer, now could I?”

Merlin laughed. 

“What happened to you after Mordred destroyed Camelot?” Morgana asked, knowing that Merlin was curious as well. “I am assuming that wolves have a longer life-span, how is it that you haven’t sought us out until now?”

Gwaine frowned and turned away to stare in the distance. “When I was little, my father told me of a prophecy, one that wolves have held onto since his great-grandfather’s time,” he said choosing his words carefully. “When we agreed to help the dragon-kin all those years ago, the wolves were placed under a geis to not speak of it until the crystal called us to the aid of the Last Dragon Lord,” he said turning back to look at Merlin. “When you first told me you were the last Dragon Lord, I was so surprised, I fear I may have hurt your feelings,” Gwaine said sadly.

“Just a bit,” Merlin replied with a lop-sided smile. Gwaine had walked away from him with wide eyes of disbelief and hadn’t spoken to him in a week. It wasn’t until they were in the midst of a battle that he had finally broken his silence, and then continued as if nothing had changed. Merlin had been so grateful to have his friend back that he hadn’t second-guessed it and they never brought it up again.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Gwaine said sincerely as he patted him on the shoulder. “I was afraid to break the geis or the prophecies of my people and knew that you would call me when the time came. Though I have to confess I didn’t expect to wait this long.”

Merlin laughed and Gwaine soon joined in. 

“Is that why you stayed away?” Merlin finally asked. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Gwaine answered with a sigh. “Grandfather went off on some fool quest to stop a wayward flock of griffins from attacking Wallachia and got himself killed in the process, leaving me as the only heir of our line.”

Merlin winced. 

“Yeah, I had been tracking the two of you for a week after you left Camelot when I got the news,” he continued. “Great-Grandfather even sent an honor guard to ensure that I made it back safely,” he added shaking his head. “I had always been such a lone wolf, suddenly being thrust into the middle of an inter-clan war and having to learn how to properly look after my people was not an easy experience. I didn’t take over properly until after the DrÄƒculeÅŸti were finally ousted by the CraioveÈ™ti in the 1500’s.”

Having finished his second helping of stew, Gwaine sat back and stretched his legs toward the fire. 

“By then Great-Grandfather had grown long in the tooth and decided to retire, giving the crown to me,” he stated as he stretched. 

“And just what does being king of a clan of magical wolves entail?” Merlin asked curiously.

“Oh much the same thing it does for any other king I imagine,” Gwaine said closing his eyes. “Land disputes, wars, guiding your people to greatness, or protecting them from sorrow, you know the drill.”

“And your queen?” Morgana asked, stirring the last bit of stew around her bowl. 

“Haven’t got one,” Gwaine replied as he kicked off his boots and socks to place his bare feet before the fire.

“But don’t you want an heir?” she prodded, surprised. 

“Why Milady?” Gwaine asked popping an eye open. “Are you volunteering?”

“No! I mean I never….just no,” Morgana stuttered in reply.

Gwaine grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not really looking anyway,” he said as he flexed his toes against the heat. “I’m still young, no one expects me to get married before I reach middle age.”

“Just how long can wolves live?” asked Merlin in surprise. 

“Well,” Gwaine said as he crossed his legs with a sigh. “If we avoid magically enhanced swords and whatnot, about five-thousand years give or take.”

“Five thousand!” Merlin exclaimed in surprise. “I would never have thought so many!”

“Says the immortal man made of magic,” Gwaine replied with a smile. “Not quite as long as dragons, but more than those wyvern bastards at any rate.”

“And yet you haven’t found someone you wanted to marry in all that time,” Morgana observed with a smirk.

“I never said that,” Gwaine replied, maintaining eye contact until Morgana turned away. “Wolves mate for life, so we are cautious in whom we choose.” Morgana looked back and saw that Gwaine’s eyes had bled amber again, something they seemed to do when he was experiencing extreme emotion. “It takes a very special woman to wed a wolf, and women strong enough to do so are exceedingly rare.” Morgana blushed but held his gaze. “Even if I found such a lady, she may not feel the same, and a wolf-wife must come willingly, or not at all.”

Morgana stared over at the former knight, surprised at the strength of his conviction. Gwaine’s amber eyes flared with power and she suddenly realized that she had gravely underestimated him. He was much more than the overly muscled cannon fodder she had always taken him for, and suddenly she felt the need to make sure he knew that in this at least, she respected him. 

“I hope that you find someone worthy of you,” she finally said.

“Thank you, Milady,” Gwaine answered, holding her gaze.

Merlin glanced back and forth between the two and yawned to help ease the tension.

“Right. Well, all this talk of marriage and responsibility has me knackered,” he said as he stacked up the dishes and cleaned them with a sweep of his hand.

“Bet you wish you had been able to use that during those crap hunting trips of Arthur’s,” Gwaine quipped as Merlin unrolled his bedroll. 

“How do you know I didn’t?” Merlin replied with a grin. 

Gwaine just laughed. 

Morgana unrolled her bedroll and snuggled down into the blankets, willing her mind to quiet itself and prayed to the Old Religion that the black wolf she had seen in her dreams since she was a young girl was not Gwaine.

~~~~~~~~

  


The following morning Morgana woke up groggy from a deep sleep, surprisingly refreshed from sleeping in the open air. 

Blinking herself awake, she took a cursory glance around their camp and found Merlin busy looking over a piece of parchment while sipping a mug of tea. 

Seeing that Gwaine was nowhere in sight, Morgana took a deep breath and relaxed. Her dreams the night before had been filled with an overly large ebony wolf with a lolling tongue and a rakish grin, and she was not ready to confront the man in person when she was becoming more and more certain that he and the wolf stalking her dreams were one and the same.

When she flopped herself down next to Merlin, he didn’t even look up. Used to her antics, he merely handed her a mug, and carried on reading.  Intrigued as to what held his attention, Morgana peered over his shoulder and saw that he was holding onto the map; the very same map that he had supposedly traded for her life the night before. 

“I made a copy,” Merlin explained, anticipating her question.

“But that means that they still have a copy of it,” Morgana replied as she took a sip of her tea. 

“Well, yes and no,” Merlin replied as he read over the next section.

“What do you mean?” Morgana prodded, needing to reassure herself that Henri and his men would not reach the stones before them. 

One of her dreams last night had truly scared her. They were somewhere deep underground and as she turned to ask Gwaine a question a shot rang out, leaving her to watch in horror as he sank to the ground dead.

“Relax, Morgana,” Merlin soothed. “I made a copy before we left Rome. It’s not complete though, just the map and not the words.” He took a sip of his tea to let Morgana digest his words. 

“So basically Henri will have a rough idea of where to go, and what city, but no idea what he is looking for?” she asked. 

Merlin smiled. “Exactly.”

A twig broke in the forest to their left and both of them stood, hands raised and eyes aglow, ready to hold off an attack. 

When an overly-large behemoth of a wolf emerged from the tree line a few moments later, Merlin immediately relaxed as he had seen Gwaine change before he left to scout out the area and ensure that Henri and his men were gone. 

Morgana on the other hand could do nothing but stare at the immense black wolf in front of her, trying not to curse the fates for betraying her when she realized that the wolf she had been dreaming about for centuries was indeed Gwaine. 

“Have a good run?” Merlin asked good-naturedly as Gwaine loped towards them. 

“Bit damp from the fog but not bad,” Gwaine growled in response as he made his way over to the log where he had left his clothes. He glanced up at Morgana briefly before sitting down on his haunches and bending his head. 

“Oh!” Exclaimed Morgana as she realized what was happening. 

For an instant the wolf and the man blended together as Gwaine bent his head in concentration.Fascinated, she watched as the black fur slowly receded revealing the tanned and muscled form of the man beneath it. When he had fully resumed his human shape Gwaine lifted his head, his eyes shining amber in the morning light before slowly fading back to normal as he grinned. 

“I see that time has cured any squeamishness that you might once have had, Milady,” he teased.

But Morgana, despite the flush of her cheeks, stood her ground. 

“I wanted to see how it’s done,” she replied, crossing her arms and lifting her chin in the air as if the sight of a naked man did not disturb her in the least. 

Gwaine raised an eyebrow and saw Merlin biting his lip behind her as he tried not to laugh. 

“So you shift naked then?” Morgana asked as Gwaine started to dress. 

“Bit constraining with clothes,” he remarked as he pulled on a pair of far too tight boxers before sliding on his jeans. 

Morgana simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The last time she had seen Gwaine bare-chested was when she had taken Camelot with Helios. She had taunted the man and made him fight for his supper, secretly delighting in the fact that he would not be intimidated or broken where other men would have crumbled and fell. Now she realized it had been more than that. If Gwaine was the wolf she had seen all her life in her dreams, he must have an important role to play in her life that had not yet unfolded. But as what? She couldn’t see herself marrying him. King of the wolves or no, he probably lived as a vagabond as he always had, scraping a living with his wits and his muscles, all those lovely muscles that seemed to glisten in the morning-

“Milady?” Gwaine suddenly asked and Morgana realized she had been staring. 

Merlin let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a snicker as he packed up the utensils and doused the fire. 

“I’ll just start packing up,” she announced as she scurried over to pack up her bedroll from the night before. 

“We’ve a fair journey ahead,” Gwaine announced as he pulled on his shirt. “If we are to reach Zapada Paradis before nightfall we must make haste.”

“And what pray tell is Zapada Paradis?” Morgana enquired as she finished packing their bedrolls into the duffel that Gwaine had brought. 

“ _Home_ ,” he answered with a grin.

 


	7. Chapter Six-A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Zapada Paradis or Snow Haven was inspired by Corvinesti Castle in Romania. There are a lot of other really unique castles in Romania just waiting to be the scene of a story. Take a look when you get a moment here: [www.romaniatourism.com/castles.html](http://www.romaniatourism.com/castles.html).

 

**Chapter Six-A**

Eight hours of walking later they had descended the hillside and wove their way through an expanse of forest and on into a lush valley until they reached a rough but serviceable dirt road on the outskirts of a sleepy village nestled along the hillside. As they entered the tiny hamlet, several of the villagers emerged to speak with Gwaine in rapid fire Romanian that neither Merlin nor Morgana could follow. After Gwaine parted ways with the townsfolk, they stopping off at the local tavern for a pint of ale and a hearty ploughman’s lunch, before continuing on to the outskirts of the village and turning onto a private drive that led off the main road and up a small hill.

“Are we nearly there?” Morgana asked, no longer accustomed to traveling so far on foot. 

“Just a mile to go,” Gwaine answered as they turned another bend and the top of the hillside came into view.  
  


Situated at the top of the hill was a castle with turrets capped in glazed orange tiles atop a mixture of limestone, pebble rock, and brick, giving the white of the towers an ethereal glow in the late afternoon sun. 

Traces of snow could be seen on the turrets and on the ground as they were just above the late autumn snow line.As they made their way up the drive past the pond to the right and the gardens to the left, a group of people rushed out the front steps to meet them. 

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” greeted a weathered old man as he bowed to Gwaine. 

“Viorel! How were things at Snow Haven in my absence?” he asked, using the castle’s English name for his guest’s benefit. “Did your daughter have her pups?”

“Not yet,” Viorel replied with a soft smile. “But we expect them any day now.” Gwaine smiled and nodded to the assembled courtiers as he led Merlin and Morgana inside. 

“There was a small run-in with a group of transients who would hunt in your territory, but other than that all has been quiet, Sire,” Viorel continued he led them to the main hall. “I have placed them in the south tower for now. I believe they will appeal to you for protection now that you have returned.”

“Have they any pack to speak of?” Gwaine asked with concern as he sat down in an armchair before the massive fireplace that dominated the left side of the room. Though he sat with one leg dangling over the arm of the chair like the Gwaine of old, there was no mistaking that this was a man very concerned with the well-being of his subjects. Even if the very idea of Gwaine having subjects seemed more than a little odd. 

“They were overrun by a party of poachers,” Viorel explained causing Gwaine’s expression to grow grim. “A woman, her five year-old daughter and a teenage boy, no relation, are all that survived.”

Gwaine sighed. “And the poachers?” he asked.

Viorel smiled. “Dealt with Sire. They will not come onto our lands again.”

Gwaine smiled. 

“You saw to it yourself, didn’t you?” he asked with a grin.

“But of course,” Viorel answered grinning back. “No poacher will be allowed to kill for sport on my watch,” he added as his eyes flashed amber. 

“Excellent!” Gwaine replied as he hopped up from his chair and clapped the man on his shoulder. “My guests, Merlin and Morgana,” he said introducing his companions. “Merlin called me with the Fenari Crystal,” he added as Viorel’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“You are the Dragon Lord?” he asked staring at Merlin in awe.

“I am,” Merlin answered. 

“Then we must prepare you for the rest of your journey,” Viorel said as he snapped his fingers. 

A petite woman with almond shaped amber eyes and a cascade of chocolate brown hair hurried forward and curtseyed to Gwaine before turning to their guests. 

“Nomi, please place the King’s guests in the north tower above the garden,” he instructed, causing the girl to courtesy again before gesturing for Merlin and Morgana to follow. 

“Go on then,” Gwaine says shooing them away. “Rest and we will meet for dinner and to go over the next part of our journey,” he ordered before turning to another of his attendants who wished to speak to him on a matter regarding the village below.

“He has a castle,” Morgana whispered to herself, stunned at how little she really knew of the former Sir Gwaine of Camelot. 

“I always said he was destined for great things,” Merlin replied with a cheeky grin as they are led through the covered breezeway that runs the length of the building. Half way across it they both pause to look at the view of the mountains and valleys in the distance. 

“It’s beautiful,” Morgana observed as the sun started to set. “I’d forgotten what it was like to be up so high and feel the wind on your face.”

“It is, Milady,” Nomi answered with a smile. “You can watch as long as you want.Your rooms are in the tower at the end of the hall,” she added before leaving them alone.

“Reminds me of sunsets from the tower back home,” Merlin said wistfully. “I have tried to put it behind me, but we are so close, Morgana, I can’t help but wish that somehow this all works and we can go home again.”

“But what if we fail?” Morgana asked, voicing the doubt that had plagued her mind for some time. 

“We won’t,” he reassured her. “I have a destiny to fulfill remember? Arthur, Albion, all of it.”

Morgana chuckled. “But destiny has been altered,” she observed as the sun touched the horizon, painting the valley below in shades of red and gold. “What if the Camelot we return to is not the one we left?”

Merlin sighed. “I am choosing to believe that somehow Kilgharrah knew this would happen,” he answered. “There have been too many coincidences for him not to have foreseen it.”

A soft wind blew down from the mountainside, causing a chill to shudder over Morgana’s skin as Merlin stared into the distance. Even now after knowing him for so very long, there were still moments when the fact that Merlin was so much more magic than human was so blatantly obvious that she had to stop from mentally kicking herself for taking so long to realize it.

The sun dipped below the horizon and as darkness fell over the land, she was filled with a sense of foreboding.

“But do I have a home to return to?” she asked, knowing full well how far she had fallen from her role as the King’s ward. 

“I think so,” Merlin answered putting his arm around her shoulders. “Morgana, you do know that Kilgharrah’s spell would not have held if you had not been willing to change, don’t you?” he asked in concern. “I don’t think you are an inherently bad person. Aithusa would not have remained your friend if she did not sense the capacity for good in you. I just thing somewhere along the way the need for vengeance took over your ability to see reason and you were lost in the darkness that had taken hold of your heart.”

“I do,” Morgana sighed. “It’s just that it’s been so long and I am no longer that angry woman looking for redemption I was when we left. I’m not sure what will happen when we go back.”

“You’re my friend, Morgana,” he said turning her to face him. “Nothing will change that. I don’t think either of us would have stayed sane all these years if we hadn’t had each other to fall back on.”

Morgana sniffed, blinking back tears. “You’ve always had the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met,” she said with a watery smile. “Just promise me that you will stop me if I ever start to fall back on old habits. Please Merlin?” she pleaded. 

“I promise,” he answered as he pulled her in for a hug. “Now what do you say we get cleaned up and see what the wolves have for dinner? I hear that castles are much more modern nowadays. They even have running water. No more running up and down the stairs or hanging a pot over the fireplace in your room in a vain attempt to keep your bathwater warm.”

“Spoken like a true servant of Camelot,” Morgana laughed and wiped her eyes. “I was always jealous you know. Arthur always had the hot bathwater, while poor Gwen could never get mine better than just above lukewarm. If I had known it was magic, I would have taught her a spell to make it easier.”

Merlin smiled. “Arthur never did figure that one out,” he said with a grin. 

A Gwaine's booming laugh echoed through the hall below as the two friends turned from the view. 

“I can’t believe Gwaine’s still alive,” she said in wonder. “And a king as well! Can you believe how huge his wolf is?” she asked shaking her head as they stepped away from the balcony and made their way to the tower beyond. 

“Why Morgana Pendragon, I am surprised at you!” Merlin scolded, sounding oddly like Gwen used to when she was still just a serving maid giving her advice on her latest suitor. “A well brought up lady such as yourself should never comment on the size of a man’s _most personal_ areas,” he added in a scandalized tone. “It’s just not done in polite society, and a lady such as yourself should know better.”

“Merlin!” Morgana laughed and smacked him in the arm. 

“Try not to think about Gwaine’s great big muscles too much while you get yourself clean,” he added with a wink before slipping inside his room. 

Morgana shook her head and smiling to herself as images of Gwaine in the glen that morning slipped back into her mind.

“Too late,” she chuckled to herself as went inside to change.

~~~~~~~~

_Blackstone Enterprises_

_Bejing, China_

“This is useless!” Henri shouted as he slammed the map he had taken from Merlin and everything else off the desk in front of him in frustration. The Warlock had tricked him somehow. The map before him only showed an ancient version of Europe and Asia, no temples, no clues, no dragon-tongue to decipher. What had at first glance seemed like the answer to all his problems was nothing more than a badly sketched reflection of the original. With only a few days left, he still needed to get ahold of the real map before Merlin and the witch found the stones and kept their power for themselves.

“I apologize for the interruption,” called Alphonse as he entered the hotel room and raised an eyebrow at the mess. “We have just received word from the recovery team in Romania that Emrys and Pendragon have escaped.”

“And were they tracked from the location?” Henri demanded, knowing that his valet had already put the mercenary they had hired in motion before they had left the location.

“Indeed they were Sir,” Alphonse replied smoothly. “They were traced as far as the village of Paradis.”

“That’s in the Wolf King’s territory is it not?” Henri asked, as he began to pace.

“It is, Sir,” Alphonse replied. “The mercenary we hired is from a clan that vied for the crown several centuries ago. Apparently the thirst for vengeance and blood between their clans has not been quenched,” he added with a small twitch of his lips. “Should I enquire if more of his clan would wish to be on our retainer?”

Henri stilled and turned to regard his valet. Alphonse was a small man, slight of frame with coppery skin and dark eyes that marked his gypsy heritage. Henri had hired him as a teenager to run errands, the type that required swift feet, fast reflexes, and the ability to stay silent unless spoken to. Over time he had honed these traits into a fine art. He could blend into the background and become invisible in even the most crowded situations; an invaluable skill when one was in charge of intelligence gathering. He had been remarkably loyal to Henri, even going so far as to use the small bits of gypsy magic he had learned from his Niana in his youth to curse Henri’s adversaries when the need arose. Henri had made him his personal valet when he turned twenty-one, and now at nearly forty he was a master of his art. Henri counted himself lucky to have found him. 

“An excellent suggestion,” Henri replied clapping him on the shoulder. “One cannot be too careful. Have them wait until they leave the Wolf King’s territory and then collect them.”

“As you wish,” Alphonse replied as he stepped from Henri’s office and flipped open his phone. He had dedicated too many years to making Henri’s bid for power a success. It was time to ensure he did not fail.

 

 


	8. Chapter Six-B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This post is split in half as it was originally posted on livejournal and Dreamwidth, and LJ though it was too big. 
> 
> Zapada Paradis or Snow Haven was inspired by Corvinesti Castle in Romania. There are a lot of other really unique castles in Romania just waiting to be the scene of a story. Take a look when you get a moment here: [www.romaniatourism.com/castles.html](http://www.romaniatourism.com/castles.html).

  


  
**Chapter Six-B**   


_ Snow Haven _

_ Romania _

Showered and changed into the fresh clothes that Gwaine’s people had provided, Morgana and Merlin joined Viorel, Gwaine’s advisor, and the erstwhile king himself in a hearty meal of venison, harvest vegetables, and fresh baked bread. Ale and wine had also been provided and Merlin couldn’t help but grin at the fact that even though he was now some sort of mythical wolf king, Gwaine still ate and drank with the same gusto as he had while still a mere a knight. Even Morgana, who was still trying to keep up her façade of polite indifference, seemed to be enjoying herself and Merlin caught her more than once scrutinizing his friend over the top of her wine glass as if trying to figure him out. 

“So,” said Gwaine as the meal wound down and he sipped on his third mug of ale. “Where does that map of yours lead to next?”

Merlin unrolled the parchment and pointed to the next location. 

“Yunnan Province,” Gwaine read in surprise. “You mean we’re going to China? Have you ever even been there?”

Merlin smiled, thinking back on his time exploring the great Silk Road with Marco Polo. He had sought out the astrologer of Kublai Khan who was said to know where the last of the Chinese Dragon Kings was hidden. Alas, it had only been a rumor.

“I’ve been there before, and it has been quite some time,” Merlin replied as he studied the map before him. “But I think we can find our way.”

“We have a meeting every hundred years with the head of the clans of Northern China,” Gwaine answered as he peered closer at the map. “The temple you have marked is well outside of their territory though. They tend to stay closer to where the goji berry grows wild and the snow falls thick on the trail.”

Merlin showed him the second temple he had marked on the map; the one inside the Himalayas that he secretly thought might actually be Shangri-La, or at least a clue as to its location.

“That is within the boundaries of the White Shadow Clan, is it not Sire?” Viorel asked as Gwaine traced the ridge of mountains with his finger. 

“It is at that,” he answered as he sat back down to take another sip of ale. “But we are not due to see them again for at least another twenty years. They might take offense at my being in their territory without their permission.”

“True,” Viorel answered. “But you bring no armies or entourage with you Sire. Surely the Mountain Queen will respect that you have not come with ill intent?”

Gwaine snorted.

“Sadly my friend, I think she would rather I did,” he said with a frown.

“Why’s that?” Morgana asked, suddenly not caring much if this Mountain Queen was to be of help to them or not. 

“She’s been trying to broker an _alliance_ between out clans for centuries,” Gwaine replied as he swirled his ale inside his mug absently. “Seems to think that the black of our pelts would mix wonderfully with the ‘ _snowdrop purity of the White Mountain Clans_ ,’ he finished raising his voice high enough to impersonate the queen in question.

“I take it you aren’t interested then?” asked Morgana as Gwaine looked up.

“She may be a fierce warrior as are all her kin,” he replied as he met her gaze. “But the heart blood of my clan beats fierce and free, hers knows only solitude and sorrow.”

“She’s a bit of an ice-queen then is she?” Merlin asked with a lop-sided grin. 

“Got it in one, Merlin,” Gwaine replied with a grin. “They spend so much time away from humans, that they have forgotten the duality of our nature. It’s a pity to be sure, for as the beast gives us strength, the human heart gives us hope.”

Merlin shared a knowing glance with Viorel and smiled. It was a well-known fact to those that truly knew him that Gwaine tended to get rather philosophical when he was in his cups. For all that he had matured as a ruler of his people; that seemed to still hold true as ever.

“Right,” Merlin said as he brought them back to the task at hand. “The inscription mentions something about walking the way of the Tao Mountain and seeking the Red Lotus Guardian.”

“It must be Weibao Shan,” Morgana said as she slipped the map closer to her. Reaching for her wine glass she poured a small measure of it onto the parchment and whispered a spell to bring the terrain into relief around the next marker. 

As the others watched, mountains covered in mists surrounded by an ancient river sprung up from the parchment as if they were looking down upon them, Morgana raised her hand and the image grew until it was hovering on the table before them. 

“Nice work,” Merlin complimented as the goji berries clinging to the mountainside of Weibao Mountain sprung into view. As the mists parted around the mountainside, Morgana waved her hand and the mass of temples littering it sprung up and gave off a soft blue light so that they could be identified. 

“But there are so many,” Gwaine complained as over a hundred lights illuminated on the map. “Did the map mention anything else about the location?” he asked hoping for a lead. 

Merlin shook his head. “Just a few lines about the waters of the dragon being the key.”

Gwaine frowned. Something about this sounded familiar. During his last visit to the White Mountain Clan there had been a skirmish with the great bears of the frozen north and one of his guardsmen had been gravely injured. The White Mountain Clan’s healer had taken him aside and treated his wounds by having him swallow an elixir she had called the waters of the dragon. They had joked with him on the way home that he had probably drunk ancient dragon piss and Gregori had been angry for days until he had realized that the healer had treated him in a hurry and without any covering. Hearing that they had missed out on seeing the attributes of what was arguably the most beautiful of the White Mountain Clan women; his tormentors had quickly backed off and left him alone. 

“It means a dragon well,” Gwaine whispered as he remembered the queen’s reassurance the waters had come from the well of an ancient temple that had been blessed by the ancient dragons themselves. 

“A Dragon well?” Merlin asked skeptically.

“It’s a well whose waters were blessed by a dragon,” Gwaine explained. “Not sure if it’s true, but the White Mountain Clan swore that it had healing powers and came from a temple on the mountains below.”

Merlin nodded and passed his hand over Morgana’s map, causing all of the temples without a reference to a dragon or a well to fade. 

Only two remained on Weibao Mountain.

“Well it looks like we have our destination,” Merlin said with a grin. “But how are we going to get there? It’s too far to teleport safely, and we only have two days left until the constellation is in alignment.”

“Leave that to me,” said Viorel said as he rose from the table. “I’ll have His Majesty’s private jet primed and ready by morning.” With that he excused himself and left the room.

“Private jet?” Merlin asked raising his eyebrow in Gwaine’s direction. 

“Being King does have its perks,” Gwaine shrugged.


	9. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weibao Mountain is home to numerous Taoist temples hidden amongst the ginko trees on her mist covered slopes. There are so many temples, and even more travel blogs about the magic of this place, that I won't list them all here. If you ever happen to be in Yunnan Province, I would suggest traveling there to experience it. You won't be disappointed.

 

** Chapter Seven **

_ Weibao Mountain _

_ China  
  
_   
  


After complaining that no sensible man or beast could travel via air without liquid persuasion, Gwaine had proceeded to down an entire bottle of whiskey before passing out and sleeping for the duration of the flight.

Viorel seemed unfazed by this development and merely tucked Gwaine more securely into the easy chair he had collapsed in, covering him up with a soft blanket as he shook his head fondly. 

“It’s harder for some than others,” he explained at Merlin’s confused look. “Wolves are creatures of the Earth by nature, and being so far away from solid ground, some of our kin don’t handle the separation very well.” Patting his master on the shoulder, the advisor gave Merlin a conspiratory wink before making his way back up to the cock-pit to check with the pilot on their progress. 

Shaking his head at how much the man reminded him of Gaius, Merlin slipped a small compact from his pocket and Morgana raised an eyebrow at him.

“Checking your lipstick, Merls?” she asked with a grin.

“Calling a friend,” he replied as he ran his hand over the mirror and the familiar face of Pili came into view. 

“Professor!” Pili greeted him. “Back so soon?” he asked with a smile. 

“Actually I’m near Dali,” Merlin answered the urgency on his face letting Pili know that time was of the essence. 

“I’m in Quijing at the moment helping a cousin with a small dilemma,” Pili answered tugging on his ear to let him know that he was being watched. “But it should be reconciled this afternoon.”

Merlin frowned. Pili had no cousin in Quijing, but had been following up on leads related to the men who had attempted to overtake the Naga temple. If the matter was being resolved, he had a solid lead. 

“I saw three swans this morning,” replied Merlin letting him know that they would need transportation for three. “They had a rocky landing on the lake but were beautiful in the sunlight.” Pili nodded acknowledging the need for a car able to traverse rocky terrain and possibly cross a river. “Did your cousin find the ring he was looking for?” Merlin continued, choosing his words carefully in case anyone was listening. 

Pili smiled confirming that the man he had found was indeed Henri Medraut. “He did and is most fond of it, but not all find it as alluring as he does,” he replied. “Speaking of which, I should be going as he is most impatient. Take care, and let me know if you have time to stop by while you are in China. Cousin would love to see you.” 

Merlin swallowed. So Henri knew they had escaped and was looking for them. He could only hope that if Pili was being followed, he could give Henri’s henchmen the slip and meet them.

“Take care,” he said meaning every word. 

“Sure thing, Professor,” Pili winked as the mirror faded to black.

By the time they had reached Dali Airport, Gwaine had awoken, bright eyed and bursting with energy. Viorel was reluctant to leave them, but when a Land Rover cruised up the tarmac with Pili at the wheel, he seemed a little more subdued with the knowledge they at least had transportation sorted before they began their trek into the mountains.

“Be well, Sire,” Viorel advised as he bowed to Gwaine. 

“Keep the mongrels at bay,” Gwaine replied with a rakish grin. “I’ll send word as soon as I can,” he added somberly before clasping the older man on the shoulder and making his way toward the SUV.

“I’ll protect him with my life,” Merlin promised as the others prepared to go. 

Viorel turned towards him and held his gaze. “He’ll be too proud to let you,” he replied. “But do try and keep him out of trouble.”

Merlin smiled and nodded before raising his hand in farewell.

“All ready?” Pili asked, and with a nod from Merlin he shifted the SUV into gear and sped off towards the outskirts of Dali. Viorel watched the sleek black vehicle until it disappeared from sight, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding he felt that he may not see his master and friend again.

~~~~~~~~

After traveling an hour or two, they had long left Dali behind and crossed the banks of the Guajiang River up into the mist covered foothills of Wei Bao Mountain.

As the trees grew thicker and the mountain road ended, they left the Land Rover behind to continue their journey on foot. 

The forest was oddly quiet save for the sound of the rocks crunching beneath their feet, and more than once Merlin felt the hair on the back of his neck rise up as if someone was watching them from the trees. The mists hung heavy over the rough dirt trail that lead to the town of Weishan, the last stop before the perilous trek up the final rise where the Temple of the Shining Scales rested near the top of the mountain. By mid-afternoon, they reached Weishan and ate a quick repast of the tea and the sandwiches that Viorel had packed before continuing on their way, hoping to reach their destination before nightfall. As the sun was starting to fade on the horizon, Merlin and Morgana exchanged a look and Gwaine let out a small growl as a whisper of magic swept softly over them, alerting them that they were not alone. 

They passed through a short tunnel cut into the mountainside and found themselves standing at the edge of a large pond covered in lily pads and lotus flowers that glowed red in the fading sun. 

Pili pointed out a small skiff tied to a tree nearby and the four of them hopped on as Gwaine, arguably the strongest of their group, pushed them across the pond to the temple on the other side.

Waiting on the steps was a man clad in robes of brilliant blue, embroidered with red lotus blossoms watching their progress with interest as they drew near.

“Greetings travellers,” he said as they stepped from the skiff and alit onto the wooden platform at the base of the temple steps. “He has waited long for your arrival. Please come this way, and remember when he arrives to keep your eyes to the floor.”

Motioning for them to follow, the monk led them through the temple to a room at the back. The front of the room seemed to be concealed behind a great screen which depicted scenes of a great blue dragon fighting alongside three other dragons as they fought to protect their kingdom from invaders. The bottom right of the screen was marred by a series of deep scratches; the painted silk in this corner obscured and tattered as if someone had hidden the result of the battle so that none could see it. 

The monk shifted his robes and knelt down behind a red lotus carved into the stone floor, bowing his head as he did so and after exchanging a glance, Merlin and the others quickly did the same. 

All was quiet for a few moments and just as Gwaine was about to shift and ask Merlin what they were supposed to be doing here, a noise could be heard behind the screen as if something massive was shifting to move itself closer to where they sat. 

“Monk, why have you come?” growled a voice from behind the screen. 

The monk kept his eyes downcast and answered. “I bring you travellers from a distant land as the prophecies foretold, Your Highness,” he replied humbly. 

A mighty rumble echoed through the chamber as the creature, as Merlin was certain it could not be human, began to laugh.

“You bring me false hope as the stars portend my doom,” came the bitter answer. “Why should I believe you after all, monk? You who trapped me here so long ago that my brothers now think me dead.”

“It was to keep you safe, Highness,” the monk replied quietly as he leaned forward in supplication to press his forehead to the floor. “I regret that my chi was not strong enough to fully counter the curse of Zhuanxu’s witch and heal you myself.”

A puff of smoke billowed over the screen and Merlin raised his head as the familiar scent of sulfur that could only come from dragon smoke reached his nostrils. An overwhelming sense of homesickness and familiarity washed over him as he realized that the creature behind the screen was most likely the dragon that they sought. 

“Calm yourself,” the dragon ordered, causing the monk to slowly raise his head. “I sense that at the very least, those that you bring before me have a touch of magic themselves.” The dragon moved closer to the screen and a gigantic eye could be seen between the seams of the screen. “You smell like kin,” he said as his eye narrowed in Merlin’s direction. “Tell me why you have come.”

Merlin held his gaze and spoke of what had happened in Camelot and their journey from the Naga cave to present. He had left out what they had found in the abbey, as part of him was unsure if he could trust the dragon or the monk at present. When he had finished his tale, the dragon remained silent as if contemplating his words. 

“You must journey to the Dragon Gate,” he said at length. “But only a dragon can open it, and I cannot help you.”

“But there are no other dragons left!” Gwaine spoke up and the dragon growled back at him.

“Silence, wolf-ling!” he ordered as a puff of smoke rattled the screen. “You know not of what you speak, and though your allegiance to the Dragon Lord does you credit, you would do well to remember that it is I who hold dominion over this temple.”

Gwaine’s nostrils flared in anger and Morgana placed a hand on his arm to calm him down, shaking her head. 

“It will do you no good to argue with him,” she said watching as the dragon’s shadow paced back and forth behind the screen. “He is too bitter and selfish to help us anyway.”

“Silence!” the dragon roared and as he did a small blast of fire burned through the centre of the screen, spreading quickly until the entire screen crumbled to ash, exposing the figure behind it. 

Morgana gasped and grabbed Gwaine’s arm in horror as the monk kowtowed to the floor, begging his master for forgiveness.

“See what you have done!” the dragon roared in anger. 

Merlin looked on in horror as he saw that it was not merely a dragon that the screen had concealed, but a Dragon King, one of the Chinese gods of the sea who could easily shift from man to beast, only this one was somehow stuck in mid-transformation. While his head was that of a dragon, one eye was human while the other maintained its dragon aspect. His forelegs were the arms of a man, his hind legs that of a dragon, and his body and tail a mess of flesh and glittering sapphire scales that seemed to tear and bleed as he moved as if the poor creature’s entire existence was in flux.

On the centre of his chest was a single bloody outline of a scale as if someone had ripped it from his body, and collected it as a trophy. His entire countenance was at once horrible and fascinating, and as Merlin took an involuntary step closer, he could feel his magic reaching out to him as it tried to heal the damage and ease his pain. 

Closing his eyes in concentration, Merlin reached towards the dragon and felt for the root of the spell that held him in his hybrid state, his eyes flashing open as he gathered his strength and tore at the strands of the spell, cringing as the dragon began to twist and turn in agony. 

But the spell was too strong and Merlin soon found himself on his knees, with Morgana at his side as she tried to boost his strength with her own magic. 

“Stop!” called out a frantic voice, and Merlin dropped his hand as Pili ran forward from where he had had waited at the front of the temple to kneel in front of the dragon as he panted on the floor before them. As the other’s watched, Pili’s form shifted from that of a middle aged man, to that of an ancient Chinese warrior in his prime, wearing armour made of blue and black dragon scales with intricate golden dragons adorning the chest and shoulder plating.

“Father?” he asked reaching out with a trembling hand to stroke the tendrils that hung from the dragon’s chin. 

“Pili?” The dragon rasped in response. “How is it that you are here?”

Pili smiled through tears. “Uncle said you must have died, but I did not believe him,” Pili answered. “I searched amongst the humans for any sign of you, and while hiding among them befriended Emrys, hoping that he would one day find you and I could bring you home.”

The dragon chuckled. “Always the adventurer,” he said grimacing as he moved to raise his head. “But the witch’s curse is almost spent. Draco is in alignment tomorrow and my time will be at an end.”

Pili shook his head. “But you are the Dragon King of the South Seas and have survived for centuries!” he argued. “Surely you cannot give up now?”

The dragon sighed and looked over his shoulder to Merlin. “My fate is in the hands of the Dragon Lord,” he said staring back at him. “Only he can end her curse; and only if he has found the source of the enchantment.”

Merlin held his gaze as he realized what he must do. Reaching inside his satchel, he pulled out one of the velvet pouches inside. Hoping he was right, he stepped forward and pulled the sapphire scale from within and held it in his hand. Remembering a healing spell that Kilgharrah had taught him to ease Aithusa’s cuts and bruises back when she was first learning to hunt, Merlin felt the scale tingle with power.

Pili’s eyes widened as he realized what Merlin meant to do, and he stepped back as his friend reached up and placed the magic infused scale atop the angry hole in the dragon’s chest. 

The dragon arched up and roared in pain as a blinding flash of light illuminated the temple. Merlin felt someone grab him and pull him back as the dragon began to thrash about; knocking over urns and breaking a temple wall until suddenly the light receded, leaving only the naked form of a well-muscled man lying on his side. 

The monk ran forward and pulled a blanket from the large pile of cushions near the back of the room that had once been the dragon’s roost, covering the man as he staggered to his feet and embraced his son. 

“Thank you,” the man whispered, nodding in Merlin’s direction as Pili stepped back and turned to face the others. 

Voices could be heard from outside and Gwaine ran to a window where Henri and his men could be seen making their way across the pond in their direction. 

“Is there a back way out of this place?” he asked as the others came to join him. 

“There is no need,” The Dragon King replied. The others turned back to face him and saw that he now wore armour similar to his sons, only more ornate and topped with a shining helm of gold, embellishing with sapphires. 

“Come,” he said gesturing for them to come closer. “You too, monk,” he said good naturedly as the monk shot him a surprised look. “Not many would put up with me for as long as you have. It would be most ungrateful of me to leave you behind.”

As the group gathered around him, the Dragon King raised his hands over head and a great circle of blue light enveloped them and pulsed with power. The last thing Merlin saw before they faded from sight was the angry face of Henri Medraut.

 

[   
](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)


	10. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for the Dragon Gate in this chapter is the Guangyan Monastery found on Quenchengshan Mountain, which is known as one of the birthplaces of Daoism.

 

 

** Chapter Eight **

_ Dragon Gate _

_ Location Unknown  
  
  
  
_

With a flash of light they stood before a massive gate with three separate arches, and a pair of stone dragons guarding it on either side. 

The temperature was much cooler, and a small dusting of snow covered the stone platform atop which the gate stood. The goji, or ‘wolf berries’, grew in thick red clusters near the entrance and the gingko trees grew thick around it, giving the entire clearing a quiet and solitary air.

As the others moved forward, the monk who had helped them pulled Morgana aside and handed her a small jade vase. 

“Please take it with you,” he said placing the intricately carved urn in her hands. “It is stronger than it looks and the waters of the dragon well beneath my temple had been blessed by Ao-Qin, the Dragon King of the South Seas, for centuries.” He glanced over to where Ao-Qin was now conferring with Merlin near the central gate. “It has prolonged my life and healed those who have come seeking refuge. Please take it in thanks for what you have done.”

Morgana tried to protest that it had been Merlin, not her, but the monk merely shrugged and walked toward the others, ending the discussion.

“Are you ready for this?” Merlin asked as she put the urn inside her backpack and made her way over to them.

“All who travel through the Dragon Gate must prove themselves worthy,” Ao-Qin warned as the central archway began to fill with a swirl of smoke. “While the Temple of Celestial Winds can be found by all, only those who had reached true enlightenment will pass through her gates.” 

“Well I don’t know if I am enlightened enough to pass through her gates, but I’m not turning back now,” Gwaine quipped as he strode toward the archway.

“Heed my warning Wolf King,” Ao-Qin warned causing Gwaine to pause. “While you may bear the mantle of your fore-fathers, a true king is only as strong as the strength of his heart.”

Gwaine’s held his gaze and nodded once before giving Morgana a wink and striding through.

“Right, I better go with him before he gets into trouble,” Morgana said with a sigh as she moved to follow him. As she reached the threshold, she turned back. “You coming, Merls?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he responded with a smile. 

Morgana nodded and stepped through.

Once she had disappeared Merlin turned to Pili. “So not just a street urchin then,” he said with a smile. 

Pili laughed. “Oh, I was lost and confused by the human world enough for it to be true,” he replied with a grin. “But it’s not every man who would help someone like me and I thank you Professor for being my friend.”

Merlin nodded and glanced to Ao-Qin. “I take it the two of you will be returning home?” he asked, sad that his friend was leaving. 

The Dragon King nodded. “I fear I have been absent for far too long,” he said with a sigh. “And if your quest is successful, the realm of the Dragon Kings is one of the few places that will remember the time that will no longer be.”

“Thank you for your help,” Merlin replied bowing his head in acknowledgement. 

“Kilgharrah chose his champion well,” Ao-Qin replied with a twinkle in his eye. “And when you see him, tell the old lizard he still owes me a chest of gold for the nightingale he stole during his last visit.”

Merlin laughed, remembering the little golden bird that had kept Kilgharrah company in his roost high in the mountains beyond the Perilous Lands. A sudden wave of melancholy washed over him as he realized that if he did not finish his quest he would never see him again. 

With a sigh he turned back to the gate and squared his shoulders. “If all goes well, I’ll contact Pili and you can tell him yourself,” Merlin answered giving them one last nod before striding through the gate. 

“Do you think they will succeed, Father?” Pili asked as Ao-Qin raised his hand and the smoke and mist filling the gate dissipated. 

Ao-Qin turned to his son and looked to the monk who nodded to indicate that the urn had been given as instructed. 

“We have done all we can, son,” he answered. “Now all we can do is return home and hope.”

~~~~~~~~

_ Temple of the Shining Scales _

“There has to be a way to follow them!” Henri raged as his men searched the temple. They had arrived just in time to see Emrys and the others disappear in a flash of light, no doubt on to the next destination. Once again he had been too late and his people powerless to stop them. 

“Perhaps I could be of service?” asked a soft voice from the shadows behind the altar. 

“And why would you help me?” Henri demanded as the slim figure of a woman dressed in the attire of a Qin Dynasty noble woman. 

“Because the man you seek broke my curse and hindered my revenge,” she answered, her jet black eyes glowing with power. 

Henri turned to the Alphonse who had gone pale as the ghostly witch moved closer and sniffed in his direction. “Tell Vali the time has come,” Henri ordered, ignoring her odd behavior and eager to enact the last phase of his master plan. “We may not have an exact location, but if Vali is in place, the stones are as good as ours.”

Alphonse nodded and pulled out his phone, stepping away to relay the message.

“He has magic,” the witch observed watching him from across the room. “The spell will require more than I now possess. I must have his as well,” she explained turning her gaze back to Henri. 

Henri stared into her fathomless eyes as he heard Alphonse end his call. While the valet had been invaluable to him in the past, Henri was so close to finally reaching his goal, that the sacrifice of his magic seemed a pittance to secure the Draconis Stones at long last.

“Do it,” he said keeping his gaze firmly forward as the witch raised her hand. Alphonse screamed out in pain behind him - then all was still. 

“It is done,” she stated and Henri forced himself to turn around and look at the empty husk of the man who’s unwavering loyalty and now death would now aid him in finally reaching his goal.

Henri motioned for strongest of his remaining henchmen to join him and ordered the rest to meet them at the rendezvous point. “We’re ready,” he said at last, turning to where the witch waited and bracing himself for what came next. 

The witch merely nodded and raised her arms to encircle Henri and his men in a funnel of wind. As the wind tore at his clothes and burned his eyes, Henri swore he heard Alphonse’s calling out to him. Deciding he was mistaken, Henri chose to ignore it until the voice made a final promise. 

“An eye for an eye,” the voice whispered into his ear like a lover. As the Temple of the Shining Scales disappeared from view Henri closed his eyes and stroked his ring, allowing the voice of Drasgal inside his head calm his fears and urge him on to claim his destiny. 

~~~~~~~~

  


_ Temple of the Winds _

_ Himalayas _

Gwaine emerged from the gate first and found himself inside the courtyard of a large temple covered in snow. As he turned around to get his bearings, a gust of wind rose up and pushed him forward, edging him towards an open door and thrusting him inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Alone in the darkness, Gwaine started searching for a way out. As he felt his way around a corner, he saw a lit torch in the distance and made his way towards it.

When he reached it he saw that the torch in fact marked the entrance of a large sunken chamber full of barrel upon barrel of wine and ale, with an elaborate feast set upon a table before it and a trio of beautiful women standing at attention, ready to wait on his every need. 

Gwaine smirked and swaggered his way forward, smiling to himself as the women filled his cup and massaged his back as he picked up a leg of mutton and moaned in satisfaction at the savory taste of the meat. 

As he chewed he looked around him and saw that there were other people in the room, huddling against the far wall: an old woman, several children, and others, all malnourished and staring at him with hungry eyes. 

Disturbed by the sight, Gwaine stood up and gestured for them to come closer. After they took a few hesitant steps forward, Gwaine heard a cry and noticed that one of the women attending him had disappeared. As the old woman shuffled forward, he heard a crash and one of the barrels of ale crumbled to dust. Gwaine held up a hand and the group stopped their advance, only starting again when Gwaine gestured them forward once more. As they moved, another barrel disappeared along with the other two women. Gwaine halted the group again and gathered everything he could carry from the table and moved forward to hand it to them. As soon as he reached the group, they grabbed the food and ale from him and fell upon it like a pack of hungry wolves. Gwaine turned around go back for the rest of the food and found that everything else had disappeared. When he turned back to check on the others, he found himself alone; everyone else had disappeared. 

The flicker of torchlight near an open door near the far wall caught his eye, and after scanning the walls for another way out, Gwaine began to cautiously move toward it. Once he turned the corner past the torch, he found himself in a new room with two doors. Morgana stood before the door on the left and the Queen of the White Mountain Clan before the one on the right. 

“You must choose Sire,” Viorel advised as he appeared at Gwaine’s side. “The kingdom must have an heir.”

Gwaine turned back to where the two women stood. Yuan-Ki, Queen of the White Mountain Clan, turned her icy gaze in his direction and he felt a shiver of cold blow through the room as she gave him a thin smile. 

“Our union is inevitable,” she said as if it had already been decided. “I am the only mate worthy of your line. Together we will build an empire that no mere human would dare challenge and give wolf-kind the power that we deserve. ”

Gwaine turned his gaze towards Morgana who merely glared back at him.

“I am no wolf,” she declared raising her chin haughtily in the air, prompting Yuan-Ki to sneer at her in disdain. Morgana ignored her and carried on. “Whoever I bind my soul to must meet me as an equal.” She lifted her hand and a wall of fire sprung up around her. “Are you strong enough to burn with and through me to make me your own?” she challenged.

Gwaine stepped back from the fire and felt an icy wind wash over him to protect him from the blaze.

“Come,” Yuan-Ki entreated holding out her arms. “While passion may burn bright, it quickly fades. Chose the path of your ancestors,” she pressed as her eyes flashed amber. “Only a true wolf can cool your heart and stand beside you to rule until the stars fade.”

Gwaine glanced back over to where Morgana stood, flames dancing in her golden eyes. Turning back to observe the regal elegance and cool demeanor of Yuan-Ki he made his choice. 

“I never was one to follow tradition,” he said with a smirk and stepped forward. 

~~~~~~~~

Morgana stepped through the gate and ducked as a fireball flew past her head to slam into the wall behind her. 

Bitter cold winds blew through the courtyard, tossing about snow and hail, making it impossible to see her attacker. Hoping that Gwaine had found somewhere to hide, she heard a shout and saw Merlin hiding behind the immense Buddha that dominated the left side of the courtyard and crouching low started to make her way towards him.

“You alright?” he asked her as she caught her breath and another volley of fireballs slammed into the marble statue causing it to shake with the impact. 

“Fine,” she answered. “Where’s Gwaine?”

“Haven’t seen him,” Merlin replied before sending a blast of energy in the direction of their attackers. “Been a bit busy.”

Morgana nodded and stole a glance around the statue, trying to determine who was attacking them, but only vague outlines were visible amidst the swirling snow. 

Suddenly the winds began to subside and a voice rang out across the courtyard. 

“Give us the Dragon Lord!” called out Henri as he stepped into view. Morgana glanced over at Merlin who was narrowing his eyes in his direction. “You can stop pretending now, Morgana,” he continued as a group of armed men started to surround them. “You have fulfilled your mission to gain Emrys’ trust. I am sure Mordred would be most grateful.”

Merlin turned to face her and Morgana shook her head. “He’s lying,” she said, hoping he would believe her. “I swore an oath, remember?”

“Come Emrys, you must have known she would break even the strongest oath to satisfy her vengeance,” Henri scoffed. “She even betrayed Aithusa to secure your trust.”

“You’re a liar!” Morgana cried out as she stepped from her hiding place to confront him. 

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots and neither did you,” Henri replied with a smile as Merlin moved from his hiding place to join her. 

“You can’t have him,” Morgana answered pushing Merlin behind her. “Mordred took his vengeance too far. This ends now!”

Henri laughed and flung a ball of black fire in her direction. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked with a sinister grin as she slammed her fists against the energy field in which she was now trapped, trying to escape. “After all this was _your_ plan, Morgana,” he added causing her to stop and stare at him in disbelief. “Altering your memory so that you would forget; it was pure genius and made you the perfect weapon.”

Merlin’s face was stony as he turned to face her. “Is this true?” he asked, his eyes stormy with an anger she had not seen in centuries. 

“No!” she answered, hoping he would believe her. “I made a promise, Merlin. I’m not that person anymore. I would never turn my back on you.”

Merlin searched her face and smiled. “I trust you, Morgana,” he whispered before turning to face Henri. “Release her,” he ordered. 

Henri smirked and raised his hand. “No.” 

Morgana screamed as a blast of dark magic slammed into Merlin before he could raise his hand to stop it. 

The walls of her prison shattered and she ran forward to pull his head into her lap as she desperately tried to heal him. 

“Come on,” she pleaded as she whispered spell after spell to no avail. 

“You can’t save him,” Henri informed her as he crouched before them. 

“The hell I can’t,” she whispered, blasting Henri away from them as she gathered her strength and uttered one last spell, an incantation that would trade her life for his.

As the spell took hold and as Merlin’s eyes fluttered open she greeted oblivion with a smile, knowing that her friend was safe.

But the darkness only lasted a moment.

The first thing she registered was being enclosed by a pair of strong arms, quickly followed by the warmth of a mouth capturing her lips in a fiery kiss that caused her magic to tingle all the way down to her toes. 

As she came up for air, a familiar voice chuckled and Morgana quickly pushed herself away from Gwaine as she tried to get her bearings. 

“So waking the fair maiden with true love’s kiss was not another challenge then?” Gwaine questioned as Morgana caught her breath. “Pity,” he said with a small pout, ignoring the glare he got in return. “Still, if you’re the real thing and so am I, we must have passed,” he observed, noting that the winds that had assaulted him upon arrival had finally died down.

“But where’s Merlin?” Morgana replied trying to change the subject and doing her best to not stare at Gwaine’s mouth. 

A crash came from behind them as Merlin burst out of the temple doors to join them in the courtyard. 

“Everyone alright?” he asked panting for breath and looking like he had seen a ghost. 

“Fine,” Gwaine answered. “You?”

“Bit of a surreal experience but I’ll survive,” he replied glancing at Morgana. “You look a bit flushed, are you okay?”

Morgana stole a glance in Gwaine’s direction and tried not to blush. “I’m fine,” she snapped reaching down to grab her backpack from the ground. “Let’s get moving shall we?” she added before turning on her heel and making her way towards the other side of the courtyard where another archway led deeper into the mountains. 

Merlin saw Gwaine frown at her attitude before following suit. Still shaken from his experience within the halls of the temple, Merlin shuddered at the thought of what he had seen. Adjusting the strap on his satchel, he pushed his fears aside and followed his friends. As they stepped through the archway and made their way towards the long suspension bridge that hung over the chasm at the edge of the temple, he promised himself that after today if he ever saw the real Arthur again, he would tell his friend the truth about just how deep his feelings ran and damn the consequences.

 


	11. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ananda Temple located in Bagan, Burma (Myranmar) is my inspiration for the look of the temple of Shambala. There are many amazing temples in the area. For a look at the region and its many temples, go here: <http://sacredsites.com/asia/burma_myanmar/bagan.html>.

 

** Chapter Nine **

The trio made their way down the cliff face toward the suspension bridge and found their way blocked by a familiar figure. 

“Greetings,” said Grettir with a smile. “I see Courage still sleeps, but Strength and Magic have brought his sister Power in his place to see the quest through.”

Morgana frowned and turned to Merlin. “You know him?”

“Keeper of the bridge to the Perilous Lands,” he explained glancing at the long bridge that the small man now guarded before turning his gaze back to its guardian. “And it would seem others as well.”

“Few places remain with enough power to need my services,” said Grettir with a sigh. “But since you have passed the trials of the Temple of the Winds unscathed, you require only one thing more to continue your journey.”

Reaching inside the pouch at his waist, Grettir pulled forth three golden petals and held them in his hand. 

“Strength cannot survive without a foundation of responsibility,” he said handing the first petal to Gwaine. “Remember what you have seen, for without a heart to guide it strength will never truly reach its full potential.”

“I will remember your words,” Gwaine answered as Grettir nodded and turned to Morgana.

“Power comes easily to some,” he continued scrutinizing Morgana as he contemplated the petals in his hand. “But trust and willingness to sacrifice for others are necessary to keep it in balance.” Morgana paled and held his gaze until Grettir smiled and held up the second petal for her to take. “I believe you have found balance at last,” he said as she took it from his hand with shaking fingers. Grettir gave her arm a soft pat before turning to Merlin.

“And last there is Magic,” he said with a grin. “So strong, but yet so unsure of his worthiness to wield that to which he was born.” Merlin froze in fear that Grettir would somehow divulge his closest held secret. “Worry not Dragon Lord, for you have shown that which truly lies in your heart, and if you have courage, regret and loneliness will no longer distract you from your true path.”

Merlin breathed out a sigh of relief as Grettir held up the final petal for him to take. As Merlin bent closer, the smaller man whispered a few words for his ears only causing the Warlock to blush and Gwaine to smirk in his direction.

“The bridge to Shangri-La is yours,” he announced stepping to the side to allow them to pass. “I wish you luck on your quest.”

As the sun rose over the snow-capped mountains, the three of them stepped forward onto the bridge, holding fast to the ropes at its sides. Once they had made it a few steps forward, Morgana turned back, and found that the guardian was gone. 

By midday they had left the bridge behind and were making their way down a long ravine. When they reached the bottom, they found a set of large doors embedded in the rock face covered in lotus blossoms. Above the circular handles rested a golden lotus with three petals missing. 

“Well at least he gave us the key,” Gwaine shrugged as they each placed their petal into one of the open spaces. A series of clicks and a grinding of gears sounded as the door unlocked and swung open revealing a hidden valley filled with waterfalls, palm trees, and other lush vegetation. The spire of a golden temple gleamed in the distance, and the three friends shared a grin before making their way toward it, unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows behind them.

~~~~~~~~

_ Shangri-La  
  
  
_

[ ](http://www.google.com/imgres?q=mythical+mountain+temple&start=166&um=1&hl=en&biw=1440&bih=754&tbm=isch&tbnid=Z_-7HRwG2IMZZM:&imgrefurl=http://www.gardenvisit.com/history_theory/asian_gardens_companion&docid=oWUdgJbpR2BsbM&imgurl=http://www.gardenvisit.com/assets/madge/ananda_temple_burma/original/ananda_temple_burma_original.jpg&w=424&h=283&ei=oVwXUNu2E8v2rAHG1ICYDg&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=805&vpy=252&dur=6232&hovh=183&hovw=275&tx=140&ty=97&sig=118251056873680910958&page=6&tbnh=139&tbnw=240&ndsp=36&ved=1t:429,r:26,s:166,i:87)

As they walked through the valley, the three travellers marveled at the various magical creatures who had found refuge within the hidden sanctuary. A griffin sailed overhead and an eagle as large as a wyvern swooped down on the nearby lake to catch an impossibly large fish in its talons before heading back to its aerie to feed her young.

Unicorns frolicked in the meadow and Centaurs lazed about underneath the trees. Nymphs danced around a satyr playing a reed flute, and faeries flitted from branch to branch, chasing the wood sprites as they gathered fruit from the trees. Merlin stopped as they neared the temple at the heart of the valley and closed his eyes letting the subtle notes of ancient magic that ran through the place wash over him and balm his tired soul. 

“The heart-song of Shambala is soothing, is it not?” an elderly man in golden robes asked as he descended the temple steps to greet him. 

“It is indeed,” Merlin replied opening his eyes with a smile as he beheld the man he had seen depicted in the mural within the Naga temple. 

“Come,” the man gestured guiding them toward the temple. “Long have I stood guardian over the temple and its secrets. I know what you seek.”

The trio followed him inside the golden temple to a wall covered in runes. Small indents covered the wall, some filled with precious stones, and others standing empty as if waiting for their turn to be filled. 

Morgana reached up and felt inside one of the indents, feeling a small pulse of magic caress her fingertips as she did so.

“Do you think we are supposed to fill them somehow?” she asked as Gwaine stepped back and ran the ring on his necklace back and forth as he contemplating the wall. 

“Looks like a mass of stars to me,” he commented tilting his head to the side and squinting at the wall as if trying to discern something from the mass of dots upon it. 

“Or a constellation,” Merlin breathed, reaching into his bag to pull out the velvet pouch full of pearls. Handing the bag to Morgana, he cupped his palms, giving her room to empty the entire bag into his hands. 

“Here goes nothing,” he said as he closed his eyes and concentrated on the power of the Dragon Lords inside him. The magic of the temple sang in recognition and the pearls within his palm started to glow as he opened his eyes and growled, ‘ _DrákoÌ±n mas deíxei to drómo_ ,’ ‘Draco show us the way’ in the language of his ancestors. The pearls began to glow and slowly lifted from his hand to place themselves into the formation of the constellation of Draco. The largest of the pearls remained in his hand. Realizing that it must represent Draconis, the brightest star in the constellation, his eyes flashed gold and he whispered its name, causing the pearl to rise from his hand to the centre of the door, illuminating the entire string of pearls in the shape of the celestial dragon.

“Well done,” the temple guardian congratulated them as the door shimmered and became translucent, allowing them to pass through it. “But you must make haste,” he said pointing to the roof of the temple where the rays of the late afternoon sun shone down on the temple floor. “The door will only stay open until Draconis’ light shines upon it and closes it once more,” he warned. 

“Best get a move on then,” Gwaine said with a smirk as he passed through the door. Morgana glanced back at Merlin and saw him exchange a few words with the guardian before joining her. 

“Fifteen hundred years,” Morgana whispered as they stared at the door. “Are you ready for this?” she asked.

“It’s time,” Merlin answered with his trademark grin. “Come on Lady Sorceress, let’s go find some dragons.”

Making their way down the hidden passages beneath the temple they found themselves deep in the belly of an ancient volcano. Though the volcano itself was long dormant, the temperature rose as they reached a cavern filled with steam vents and rock formations glittering with crystals and gems, fashioned from the earth’s upheaval centuries before. 

“Look!” Morgana cried out as she saw a large flat rock in the centre of the cavern. An impossible thatch of wild grass and flowers grew upon it, and nestled together in the centre of it was a clutch of dragon eggs.

“Are they still alive?” Gwaine asked as they ran towards them for a closer look.

“Kilgharrah once told me that a dragon egg could lie dormant for over a thousand years,” Merlin said as he held a shaking hand out to see if what he had been told held true. A faint brush of magic, followed by another, then a third each reached out to brush his own and Merlin fought back tears as he turned to his friends and smiled.

No words were needed as the trio laughed in happiness that the eggs had survived, and at long last, Mordred’s curse could be undone.

The three of them each scooped up an egg, careful to keep their precious cargo safe as they made their way back up through the winding tunnels to the temple.

As they passed through the door, the first shaft of moonlight drifted down to illuminate the temple and the door began to solidify once more. 

Looking for the guardian to thank him before they left, Merlin almost collided with the man as he put a finger to his lips and gestured for them to follow him to the side of the temple. 

A howl echoed through the valley and Gwaine’s eye shifted to amber as they ran through the temple and out the into to the forest beyond. 

“Vali,” he snarled in recognition as the howl echoed again. “His clan has been after my territory for centuries,” he explained as they wove through the trees. “I fear his thirst for power has brought him to this place,” he apologized to the guardian as they came to a stop at a doorway embedded in the rock wall at the edge of the valley. Thrusting his egg at Merlin, he prepared to shed his clothes so that he could change and protect the valleys inhabitants. 

But the guardian reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

“The valley is enchanted to prevent violence,” he reassured him. “But your time grows short and you must leave before Draconis fades,” he urged glancing up to where the star now shone brightly overhead.

“How do we open the door?” Merlin asked as the howling grew louder. There was no discernible key or way to open it, and he felt no trace of magic, just a small slot near the crack that seemed to be waiting for a key. Frustrated he looked to the guardian who merely looked at Gwaine with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Time to tip the scales, Wolf King,” he said with a smile.

“Only the scale will turn the key,” Gwaine answered in surprise before reaching up to slip the chain from around his neck. Pulling off the golden dragon scale that rested upon it, he handed it to Merlin with a cheeky grin. 

“Your key, Dragon Lord,” he said as Merlin shook his head in disbelief. 

“You’ve had it the entire time?” Morgana asked as Merlin slipped the scale into a notch near the crack in the rock face and the door slid open. 

“Been guarding it all my life,” he replied with a shrug. “Didn’t know quite what it was for until now though.”

Merlin pulled the scale back out and handed it to Gwaine so that he could replace it and the chain around his neck. The door began to slide closed once more and with a parting word of thanks the trio ran through the door and made their way down the rocky slope into the night, knowing that they needed to put as much distance between themselves and their pursuers before they attempted to find a way back to the resting place of Camelot, where it all began.

 

[   
](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)


	12. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are many [legends](http://www.glastonburytor.org.uk/mysterytor.html) and theories surrounding the existence of Glastonbury Tor. When I saw the image of the lone tower before a giant moon the idea of Merlin trying to save a Camelot hidden beneath the hill took shape. The idea was still bouncing around in my head when a late night viewing of _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ gave it wings and the final inspiration for this story.

 

** Chapter Ten **

Draconis hung high overhead when they finally stopped running to catch their breath. 

The snow glittered around them in the starlight and the trio placed the eggs together as they rested and Merlin gathered his strength in preparation to teleport them to Glastonbury Tor.

“How long do you need?” Gwaine panted as he bent over to catch his breath. 

Before Merlin could reply, a low growl sounded nearby as a wolf emerged from behind a nearby rock to confront them. Several other wolves slipped out of the darkness to surround them, causing Morgana to raise a shield and Merlin to ignite a ball of flame as they prepared to fight them off. 

Gwaine pulled a sword from a hidden pocket at the back of his leather coat, causing Morgana to raise an eyebrow in surprise and the former knight to roll his eyes.

“Saw it in a movie once,” he replied shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I hate guns. Swords are much more practical.”

“Only you, Gwaine,” Merlin quipped and the two friends shared a grin.

The sound of a helicopter echoed in the distance and soon after Henri strode towards them flanked by six of his men and a large russet wolf that caused Gwaine to snarl in recognition. 

“I take it that’s Vali?” Merlin asked, Gwaine only growled response.

“So nice of you to retrieve the stones for me,” Henri greeted as he stopped before them. “You’re outnumbered and out of time. Why don’t you just hand them over to me now and I might let you live.”

“How about you leave us alone and crawl back into whatever hole you came from?” Merlin countered, placing his back to Morgana’s so that they could protect themselves on both sides.

“How rude!” Henri huffed. “Well, I did try. I guess we’ll just have to do it the hard way then.”

Gesturing to his men, they raised their rifles and fired at Morgana’s shield. She hadn’t had to protect herself from this many bullets at once since her time with the French resistance, and despite her best efforts cracks soon began to appear faster than she could repair them. 

Another howl sounded in the distance and Gwaine turned towards it before looking back at Vali in triumph. 

“It would seem that you did not alert the White Mountain Clan that you would be entering their territory,” Gwaine taunted as another howl sounded and the sound of snow crunching beneath a large pack of wolves could be heard in the distance. 

“Ignore them and continue!” Henri shouted over the din as his men resumed fire. 

Gwaine turned and saw Merlin reach out to help fortify Morgana's shield, but as the cracks grew, he realized that there was no way they could keep it up and still have enough power to teleport themselves and the eggs away.

Throwing his sword into the ground beside the eggs, he gathered them up and thrust two of them into Merlin’s hands and the other into Morgana’s. 

“There’s no time to argue,” he said reaching up to adjust the chain upon his neck. “You have to go now before it’s too late.”

The howling in the distance grew louder as the first of the white wolves arrived. Gwaine threw back his head and howled in answer before grabbing Morgana by the hand and pulling her forward to smash their lips together in a fierce kiss. When he finally released her, he kissed her forehead and turned her around, pushing her towards Merlin. 

“Go and save Camelot,” he said with a lopsided grin. “If all goes well, I’ll see you soon.”

Morgana clutched her hand to her chest and stared into Gwaine’s eyes as he picked up his sword while Merlin gathered his strength to cast the spell. 

As the centre of the shield started to crack, the two of them faded away and Gwaine rasied his sword, swinging it into position before charging forward to face Vali and the rest, praying silently to whatever Gods may be listening that they would succeed.

~~~~~~~~

 

  


_ Glastonbury Tor - Resting Place of Camelot _

_ Somerset, England_

 

_  
  
_

Merlin and Morgana landed in a heap with the eggs clutched between them near the stone tower that marked Camelot’s resting place. 

The moon hung low over the hill and Draconis shone down directly overhead, illuminating the magical scar that permanently marked the spot where Mordred had fallen. 

Placing each egg at one of the three points that marked the triangular tear in Albion’s magic, Merlin summoned his staff from the elements and held it aloft, calling upon the ancient power of the place to aide him in his work. 

As he was about to begin, a crack of black lightning struck the ground beside the tower announcing Henri’s arrival. 

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” he challenged as he threw the battered body of a still wolven Gwaine at Morgana’s feet. 

“No!” Morgana cried as she bent down to help him. As she lifted his head into her lap, Gwaine shifted and she saw just how wounded he truly was. The bullets that Henri’s men had fired must have been tempered with magic as even the smallest graze had already started to fester and turn black from the poison working its way through his system.

Henri laughed. “Silly witch,” he chuckled as he held up his ring. “Don’t worry, you’ll join him soon enough.”

Morgana held out a hand to stop him, but found herself unable to summon her magic as the ring did its work. Her ebony hair faded from grey to white as her life-force began to drain and Henri’s ring glowed with newfound power. 

“Emrys, please!” Morgana rasped as she started to lose consciousness, echoing the words of the vision she had received years before where Merlin disguised as the Dragoon stood over her as she begged for mercy. 

But this time, there was no hesitation as her former foe, now friend came to her aid. 

The magic that still pulsed through the ground beneath their feet thrummed with power as Merlin held his staff to the sky and roared in anger. 

“No more Drasgal!” he shouted as he raised his staff to the heavens and the stars above him flared with power. “Your reign of terror has gone on long enough, and by the ancient power of the Dragon Lords it shall not stand!”

Henri paused and stared at Merlin as if seeing him for the first time. With a sneer he turned his ring in Merlin’s direction, attempting to use the power he had stolen from Morgana to bring him to heel. 

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and a bolt of lightning shot from the heavens to strike his staff, illuminating the crystal within with the wrath of the Dragons who had been placed in the heavens above to watch over their kin.

Merlin pointed the staff at Henri and with a blast of celestial fire eradicated both him and the last remnants of Drasgal and Mordred’s crystal from existence.

When it was done, he fell to his knees riding out the resulting shock wave through the earth as he released the magic back into the heavens and gasped for breath.

As the ground settled, a piece of stone fell from the tower and landed beside one of the eggs, cracking the outer shell. 

“What have I done?” Merlin cried out in despair as the egg started to turn gray. 

Recalling what the monk at the Temple of the ShiningScales had said, Morgana pulled out the urn of water from the Dragon well and poured some of it onto the egg, smiling as the shell healed itself and became whole once more. After checking that the egg and its companions were indeed unharmed, Merlin gestured to Gwaine and Morgana quickly moved to pour the rest down his throat. 

“No,” Gwaine whispered as she started to tilt it into his mouth. Reaching up he touched the lined and weathered face that Morgana now wore as a result of Henri draining away her magic and her youth. “Only if you heal yourself first.”

“I thought you liked _older women_ ,” Morgana replied with a soft smile as he shuddered against the pain. “Besides. If you don’t drink it, you can’t tell me why you gave me your ring.”

Gwaine laughed, and then coughed, as blood stained his teeth. “You know why,” he rasped trying to catch his breath. 

“Of all the stubborn…” Morgana started before pouring the rest of the water down his throat despite his protests. 

When she was finished, Gwaine’s back arched in pain as the bullets inside him forced their way out and the wounds began to close. Panting and gasping for breath, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and pulled Morgana towards him, not giving a damn what she looked like or the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born; both of them simply happy that they were both still alive. 

“If you two are about done,” Merlin said as he smiled at his friends. “You might want to stand back.”

Scrambling to their feet, Morgana and Gwaine stood beside their friend, watching in awe as he closed his eyes and named each of the dragons residing within the eggs they had fought so hard to retrieve.

“Dýnami,” he called for the first dragon, thinking of all Gwaine had done to show why he had been so named. As the black dragon named Strength broke free of its shell, it shook his head much like his namesake and stretched his wings and looked to the other eggs, hopping back and forth on his feet in anticipation.

“Exousía,” Merlin called forth the next dragon, this one red and as her name meant Power, she burst forth from her shell in a single burst of flame, something that most dragons could not summon until they were much older. Morgana laughed and clapped in delight, causing the little dragon to preen at her praise. 

“Thárros,” he whispered naming the final dragon Courage after his king. Golden wings emerged from the shell first followed by a large ruff that looked so much like a crown that Merlin knew that his name had been no accident.

The three hatchlings bowed in his direction, and Merlin followed suit. Unable to speak the language of man, Thárros, clearly already their leader, stepped forward and whispered to Merlin in dragon-tongue to not be alarmed as they had been told been told while new in the shell what must be done. 

Puzzled, Merlin watched as the three dragons took flight, weaving together in an intricate pattern back and forth through the night sky, hovering between the scar below them and Draconis above. Looking to Gwaine to see if he had any idea what was happening, he saw his friend staring back at him sadly before leaning forward to kiss Morgana’s forehead in farewell. 

“I’ll see you soon, Milady,” he said softly as he took a step back.

“I don’t understand,” Morgana said looking at Merlin as he reached for her hand and clasped it in his own.

A pulse of light shone down from above as Draconis pulsed once more and the three hatchlings dove down to perch on Merlin’s and Morgana’s shoulders. The triangular scar of Mordred’s curse began to glow and when Merlin and Morgana stepped within it, a flash of light filled the night sky causing the hatchlings to roar in triumph as the balance was restored and magic made whole.

 

[](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)   
  



	13. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed my first ever Merlin story.
> 
> A parting word of advice: Never go against a Dragon when cows are on the line.

 

** Chapter Eleven **

_ Camelot  
  
  
_

Morgana awoke to the gentle purring of a baby dragon as it snuggled against her side. Pushing aside a strand of her once more ebony hair, she staggered to her feet, muttering a curse as she tripped over the hem of her long dress. As she righted herself Morgana groaned in annoyance as she realized just how long it would be before she could have the simple ease of wearing jeans again. Scooping up  Exousía and placing her on her shoulder, she joined Merlin where he stood at the edge of the tower, looking down over the field below, where Camelot’s knights were rounding up the remnants of Mordred’s army.

He seemed to be searching for someone and as the sunlight shone off the halo of golden hair that could only be her brother, Morgana saw her friend visibly relax in relief that Arthur was safe. 

“Are you finally going to tell him?” she asked watching Merlin follow his progress across the field. 

“Tell him what,” Merlin asked, not meeting her eyes. 

Morgana sighed. 

“Gwen left for the nunnery years ago when she realized she would never truly get over the loss of Lancelot,” she reminded him. “I took shelter there once, and she told me that she would never have to worry about Arthur’s happiness as she knew you would always be there at his side,” she added smiling as Exousía took flight to join the other two dragons circling above Merlin’s head. 

“So?” he whispered as if afraid of what she might say. 

“What was it Grettir said?” she mused watching as Merlin’s ears turned pink, a sure sign that he was embarrassed. 

“He said that if I have courage, regret and loneliness will no longer distract me from my true path,” he answered glancing up to where the dragons were now darting around the flag atop a nearby tower. 

“Yes, and I don’t think he meant my brother’s namesake,” Morgana replied shoving his shoulder with her own. “So what about it, Merls? Isn’t it about time you claimed your king?”

Merlin chuckled and looked down to find Arthur staring up at him. 

Everything seemed to still for a moment, as they held each other’s gaze. Arthur nodded in his direction and with a word to Leon started moving toward the castle. 

“Oh Gods he’s coming,” Merlin panicked and Morgana laughed to see the almighty Emrys shaking like a leaf at the prospect of telling his best friend how much he loved him. 

“It’s not funny,” he said with a scowl glancing toward to the ring on her hand. “Besides, since you still have his ring, and since he’s just about as magical as we are, he’s bound to remember at least some of what happened," he added with a smirk.  
"I on the other hand," he said as he started to pace in nervous agitation, "still have to explain how you aren’t evil anymore and helped me defeat Mordred, how we had to wait over a thousand years to break the curse that destroyed Camelot, tell him where the hatchlings came from, and oh yes, tell your prat of a brother that I have pretty much been in love with him since he went on a quest to find the mortius flower and save me from Nimueh’s poison.”

“You have?” Arthur asked as he joined them. 

Merlin paled and Morgana turned around to face her brother. 

“Hello Arthur,” she said with a soft smile. “I don’t know if things will ever be right between us again, but if you decide you want to take the chance I am willing to try.”

Arthur glanced over her shoulder to look at Merlin and saw him nod in affirmation. 

“I will need some time to get used to the idea,” he answered truthfully, clenching his jaw. “But it would be nice to have family again.”

Morgana smiled. “I would like that as well.”

A howl sounded in the distance and Morgana gasped in recognition.

“I need to go,” she announced, already staring into the distance.

“Tell Gwaine hello,” Merlin said with a grin as she turned and hugged him tight. 

“Be happy,” she whispered before kissing him on the cheek and disappearing in a flash of light. 

“Well, that was unexpected,” Arthur said once Morgana had left. 

“Bit of a long story,” Merlin replied scratching the back of his head. 

Arthur glanced up as Kilgharrah and Aithusa arrived and the hatchlings began to chirp at the older dragons in excitement. 

“From what I heard it sounded like you’ve spent the last thousand years or so chasing down a trio of hatchlings to break a curse and brought my sister back into the light and helped her shack up with Gwaine, of all people, in the process,” he replied, cringing as the gold dragon smacked into Kilgharrah’s side on accident.

“Pretty much,” Merlin answered, watching in amusement as Aithusa grabbed the hatchling and scolded him before he fell. 

“And the rest of it,” Arthur asked, dropping his gaze to stare at his manservant. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Merlin asked keeping his eyes firmly on the dragons above him. 

“Mer- _lin_ ,” Arthur said in exasperation. 

“Ye- _es_?” he answered still unable to meet his eyes. 

“You know what I mean,” Arthur pushed, stepping closer to his friend. 

“Oh, that bit about how Morgana thinks I fancy you?” Merlin asked finally lowering his gaze. “Nah. Must have been a bit of the leftover shock from so much magic occurring at once,” he added with a wary grin. “You know Morgana, always did like to get one over on you.”

“But this time she was telling the truth, wasn’t she Merlin,” Arthur answered, watching as Merlin’s ears turned pink and he looked away. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered trying not to acknowledge what Arthur was implying. 

“Oh I think it does,” Arthur answered reaching up to turn Merlin’s face towards him. 

Merlin swallowed as he saw his friend, his king, the _dollop-head_ who had stolen his heart looking at him expectantly. 

“Not if you don’t feel the same,” Merlin said softly, giving Arthur one last chance to pull away. 

“Mer- _lin_ you idiot,” Arthur said with a smile. “As I told Gwen when she left, there are only two people in this world I have ever truly loved, and you, my stupid, clumsy, amazingly wonderful friend, are one of them.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide as Arthur ran his thumb over his cheek bone. 

“Do you mean that?” he asked, needing to know for certain.

Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“I’m going to kiss you now and if that doesn’t convince you, I’ll have Gaius draw you a diagram and explain it to you, alright?” he said with a smirk as he brought his other hand up and cupped the Warlock’s face. 

“Well, alright then,” Merlin answered as Arthur leaned in and captured his lips.

Merlin felt his magic pulse beneath his skin as he brought his arms up to encircle Arthur’s waist. One kiss led to another until soon the dragons overhead were chirping and calling out with enthusiasm, encouraging them as only they could. 

Chuckling, Arthur pulled back and looked into the shining eyes of his beloved. 

“Not many who get to kiss the king,” he said with a smug smile. 

“I don’t really fancy it all that much,” Merlin replied with a shrug, causing Kilgharrah’s great belly laugh to ring out from where he had perched atop the adjoining tower and Arthur to scowl.

“Considering the fact that you are floating, Master Warlock, I think you might want to reconsider your answer,” the Great Dragon answered. 

“Oh, alright then,” Merlin replied grabbing onto Arthur and kissing him with enough passion to leave the King of Albion breathless. 

As they landed back on the top of the tower, Arthur reached down and took Merlin’s hand. “I think we have some catching up to do don’t you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. “After all, you did have to wait over a thousand years to end a magical curse.”

Merlin leaned forward and whispered in his ear, careful to stay quiet enough that the dragons wouldn’t hear. 

“Trust me, Sire,” he purred as he nipped Arthur’s ear, “There are things that magic can do that I can’t _wait_ to show you.”

Arthur flushed, and turned to Leon who had arrived to give Arthur an update on their progress. 

“Leon,” Arthur said patting the knight on the shoulder. “You’re in charge. Merlin and I have important matters to discuss and should not be disturbed for at least-“ he turned to Merlin for guidance. 

“Twenty-four hours,” Merlin replied calmly causing Arthur to gasp in anticipation. 

“Right,” Arthur coughed grabbing Merlin’s hand to drag him towards the stairs. “And not a moment sooner.”

Leon watched them go and heard Kilgharrah clear his throat. 

“I believe the wager was twenty cows,” said the dragon with a smile as Leon’s eyes went wide and he glanced back to where Arthur had gone. 

Shaking his head he pointed to the northern pasture beyond the castle gates. 

“Had them ready for ages,” he said with a grin. “You should have made it thirty.”

Kilgharrah threw his head back and laughed. 

_ ~finis~ _

 

[   
](http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html)

 


	14. Secrets of Draconis Artwork by ettoby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you go to her original post on livejournal and let her know what you think!  
> http://ettoby.livejournal.com/76606.html


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